Threads Of Time
by gr8rockstarrox
Summary: When Bella Potter meets Death, she takes him up on his offer to be placed in a parallel universe. She wakes up to find herself in Godric's Hollow on October 31st, 1981. Her mission now is to save & protect Harry, and give him the life that she never had. Simple, right? But with a certain doglike man annoying her, universe hopping doesn't seem all that easy anymore. Fem!Harry/Sirius
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** When Bella Potter meets Death, she takes him up on his offer to be placed in a parallel universe. She wakes up to find herself in the Godric's Hollow graveyard, on October 31st, 1981. Her mission now is to save and protect Harry, and give him the life that she never had. Simple, right? It's only once she's all in that she realises that universe hopping isn't all that easy as it sounds. Especially with a certain doglike man annoying her. fem!HarryxSirius

 **Warnings:** Fem!Harry. Crude language. Will have sexual situations in the future. Rating will most probably go up from a T to an M.

 **Disclaimer:** JK Rowling owns Harry Potter & co. I make no money out of this. This disclaimer is applicable to all future chapters.

 **Cover image** : The cover image is based on a picture called 'Girl Harry Potter' by milky0candy. Used with permission. Check out their profile on DeviantArt . com.

* * *

 _THREADS OF TIME_

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

 _ **"If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world."**_

~ C. S. Lewis ~

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella opens her eyes, to find that she is looking up at the sky. She can see the stars, twinkling. Slowly, she becomes aware of the cold hard ground under her, and that's when her olfactory senses kick in. She can feel the stench of residual Dark Magic that has just occurred. Somehow, she knows where she is.

And if she knows her rather witty friend Death, she knows which time He has sent her to. She groans and stands up, to see that she is indeed in Godric's Hollow. In fact, she's in the graveyard, at the spot where her parents will soon be buried. Death's irony is not lost on her.

She looks down to see what she has. What tools are at her disposal? She has the Elder Wand in her wand holster. She has the Invisibility cloak draped around her shoulders. She can't find the Resurrection Stone anywhere on her, but she decides it doesn't matter. After all, of what use is the Stone?

She stuffs the cloak into the inner pocket of her robe, surprised that it actually fits in. She looks around to get a sense of the directions, and then just decides to follow the smell.

She starts running to the Potters' house. Her house, in a parallel dimension. She stops running only when she comes to the wreckage. The wooden gates are charred and the door is hanging off its hinges. She enters warily.

At the bottom of the staircase she encounters her dead father's body, and her throat closes. His glassy stare makes her want to cry. The first time in her living memory that she sees him, and he's dead. She kneels on the ground and does what she did to Dobby a lifetime back. She closes his eyes, and then kisses him on the forehead.

She walks up the staircase, knowing what she will encounter now. The smell of Dark Magic is the strongest from the room on her right, and she follows the smell. She isn't surprised to find that this whole side of the house is missing a wall. The ceiling has caved in, and she can hear the softest of sniffles.

She walks boldly into the room, keeping her eyes open despite her urge to close her eyes and bawl like a baby. She has to be strong. She sees the baby crying in the crib, its green eyes wide, tears streaming down its face. There's a nasty scar on its forehead, and she quashes down the urge to pick up the baby and comfort it. Instead, she looks down and sees her mother, her dead mother, lying spread-eagled on the floor.

She kneels down next to her, and touches her mother's face, to find that it is wet. Her face is still warm. Bella brushes the fiery red hair of the woman in front of her, and smiles sadly as she feels the tears roll down her own cheeks.

"Thank you for saving me in not just this life but in my own as well, mum," she says softly, her voice shaking. Her green eyes stare at the dead green eyes in front of her, and she breaks down. "Mother, mama, mum, mom, mommy, marmee," she calls out, a bittersweet smile on her face. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to use those words."

The baby starts crying loudly, and Bella knows that it is time to leave. She closes her mother's eyes, just the way she closed her father's eyes, and kisses the cooling body on the forehead. She then stands up and walks over to the cradle, to pick up the baby. Automatically, the baby's hands raise, and Bella picks it up.

She kisses the baby's forehead and smiles down at the green eyes which stare back at her, without blinking. "I'll look after you, love. You're safe now."

She walks out of the door, closing the baby's eyes when they cross their dead father's body. Once out of the ruins of the house, she dabs at the baby's forehead with the sleeve of her robe. The baby winces and wriggles in her arms. She decides against using an Epiksey, as she doesn't know how babies react to magic. She protectively cradles the baby between her arms, and Apparates to the gates of Hogwarts.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

She is surprised that no one has stopped her, yet. She makes her way to the gargoyle and starts guessing sweets at random. The gargoyle looks down at her, disapprovingly. She hits jackpot when she says lemon-drop, because the gargoyle springs aside and lets her go past.

The door opens before she can even knock and her eyes meet the twinkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore, a man she thought she would never see again. The baby shifts its head in her arms.

"I knew there was a visitor on campus, but since I couldn't find any malicious intent when you passed through the wards, I decided that you were here, most likely, to meet me."

Bella nods, before taking the seat that he gestures her towards.

"Professor Dumbledore, I have a story to tell, that I hope you will believe. The fate of this world rests upon your faith in my story. I do not mind taking Veritaserum to prove its authenticity."

Dumbledore leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. The twinkling in his eyes diminish as he nods his head.

"Please continue, Ms. -" he pauses.

"Potter."

His eyes widen slightly, and she grimaces.

"Shall I begin, Headmaster?"

"Yes, please."

The baby makes a sound, and she smoothens its unruly hair. She doesn't know why her parents have kept the baby's hair so short. Shouldn't girls have long hair?

"My name is Isobel Lily Potter. I was born on July 31st, 1980. My parents were Lily Rose Evans and James Charlus Potter. A few months before I was born, a prophecy was made, which stated that I would be the one to vanquish the one known as the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord, Voldemort learnt of just the first two lines of the prophecy from a Death Eater who overheard it being made, and decided to kill me. Because of this, my parents went into hiding along with me, making one of their friends the Secret-keeper. But at the last minute, they switched Secret-keepers. The new Secret-keeper betrayed my parents to Voldemort, and on October 31st, 1981, the Dark Lord visited Godric's Hollow, where I lived as a child with my parents.

"My trusting father didn't even have a chance against Voldemort, for he did not have his wand on him. Voldemort killed him, and moved upstairs to my room, where my mother was protecting me. She pleaded with him to not kill me, but he refused. Ultimately, she sacrificed herself for me, invoking the ancient magick of love. Voldemort next turned his wand upon me and cast the killing curse. However, the curse rebounded, and it hit him. Everyone thought him to be destroyed and dead. The place where the curse hit me left a scar on my forehead."

She brushes her hair aside to show her scar. The old man seems to have aged greatly, just hearing the beginning of the story. His eyes travel to the baby she is holding, where a similar lightning shaped scar is on its head. For some reason, the baby feels like a 'he', not a 'she'.

She continues her tale.

"Soon I was rescued by the Gamekeeper of Hogwarts, Rubeus Hagrid, and upon the Headmaster's commands, was left with my Muggle aunt and uncle. To say they treated me terribly would be an understatement. They kept me locked up in a cupboard under a staircase for most of my life.

"On my eleventh birthday, I found out from Hagrid that I was a witch. I learnt of my true identity then. I shall try to be as brief as possible, as time is of essence. I was sorted into Gryffindor, and you returned my cloak to me. Needless to say, Voldemort wasn't dead. He made his first attempt to come back in my First Year by sharing the body of a Professor. I managed to get rid of him once again, because of my mother's blood that ran in my veins.

"In the Second Year, he returned, in a way, as Tom Riddle. He'd left behind the memories of his sixteen year old self in a diary. That diary fell into the hands of a naive friend of mine. The diary possessed her and let loose the same monster that petrified Hogwarts students forty years back. I managed to destroy the diary, almost dying in the process.

"Come my third year, a supposed mass murderer escaped from Azkaban. That was the year when I started learning about the past. My past. This supposed mass murderer who also betrayed my parents was apparently my Godfather, Sirius Black. The rumour was that he was out to kill me. But I soon found out that he actually escaped prison to kill the real traitor, Peter Pettigrew. Pettigrew was the real Secret-keeper. After my parents' death, he had framed Sirius and faked his own death. When Sirius realised that Peter was hiding at Hogwarts in his Animagus form, posing a risk to my life, he broke out.

"With the help of Remus Lupin, who was the DADA Professor at Hogwarts at that time, Sirius managed to catch Peter and convince me of his innocence. You too were convinced of his innocence. However, before anything could be done, Peter turned into in a rat and escaped. So Sirius was forced to go into hiding.

"The Triwizard Tournament was held in my Fourth Year, and somehow, I was chosen as a fourth champion, despite you placing an age limit. All through that year, I had nightmares of Voldemort killing people. I knew that he was making an attempt on my life once again. The third task was a trap, and a fellow Hogwarts student and I were Portkeyed to a graveyard. The other student was killed almost immediately, and using my blood, Pettigrew resurrected Voldemort. That was the start of the Second War. I duelled him and a phenomenon called _Priori Incantetum_ occurred, spinning a golden web around us. When I escaped and told the story, very few people believed me. If it is of any comfort, you believed my story. The Prime Minister denied everything.

"Voldemort had help from inside the school. Mad-Eye Moody, the DADA professor, was an impostor. The real Moody was tied up and left alone in a trunk. A Death Eater, Barty Crouch Jr., was using Polyjuice. Fudge, the Minister, had him Kissed immediately, in order to prevent the truth from coming out.

"The next year, you restarted the Order of the Phoenix, and Sirius lent you his home to use as headquarters. The Ministry interfered with Hogwarts and I started learning Occlumency lessons from Severus Snape, the very same man who overheard the prophecy. He was the Potions teacher. In order to get the prophecy from the Department of Ministry, Voldemort baited me, planting a false image of a hurt Sirius in my head through the connection. My friends and I broke into the Ministry and we duelled the Death Eaters. Soon, the Order members joined us and all of us fought side-by-side. Sirius died in the process, as he fell through the Veil. Finally, as the battle progressed to the higher levels, Fudge and the other ministers saw the duel between you and Voldemort after he tried to possess me. Finally, the public began to believe the story.

"In my Sixth Year, you started giving me private lessons, now that I knew the contents of the prophecy. Voldemort created certain objects, that anchored him to the mortal world, thereby rendering him immortal. The diary had been one of the anchors. You managed to destroy another anchor all by yourself. Finally, we set off in search of one more anchor. We were working under the belief that he made seven such anchors."

She pauses here, and looks at him uncomfortably. The baby in the mean time has managed to clutch her hair as it sleeps. Its little fist holding her dark hair makes her heart flutter. The baby looks so cute.

"Sir, the next part might be slightly disturbing to hear," she says.

Dubmledore nods his head. He seems much older without the twinkle in his eyes.

"I'm afraid that your story had already deeply disturbed me, Ms. Potter. It doesn't make sense to take into account this old man's comfort level."

"You were killed when we returned to the castle. Voldemort had commissioned a student to do it, but the boy had never wanted to be a Death Eater. He was simply being punished for his father's mistakes. So Snape stepped in, and killed you. No one else died in the battle that night, but everyone knew that Hogwarts was no longer safe from Voldemort.

"My friends and I decided to complete the mission you left us behind with. The anchor that the two of us retrieved proved to be a fake. While Voldemort wreaked havoc on the wizarding public, and Snape became the Headmaster, we found the real anchor, destroyed it, and managed to find most of the other anchors as well. Through my link with him, I knew that he knew the anchors were disappearing, and that one of the last ones was hidden at Hogwarts. Hence began the Battle of Hogwarts. We managed to destroy the one at Hogwarts and that is when I realised that _I_ was the seventh unintentional anchor he created.

"You see, Snape proved to be a spy who worked for you all along, ever since Voldemort killed the woman he loved, my mother. Just before he died, he gave me his memories, in which I saw that you had already planned your death with him, so as to ensure that that innocent student's soul wouldn't be split. You also ensured that he was the only other person who knew that I had to sacrifice myself for the greater good. And though I thought I would be angry with you, I was surprised to learn that I actually empathised with you.

"I sacrificed myself, hoping that I could invoke the same magick that my mother invoked. But despite dying once, I came back alive. I spoke to Death Himself, and he explained that I had to go back. I met you as well, and you explained a lot of things, stressing on the importance of my going back. While I pretended to be dead, a friend of mine killed the last anchor, which was Voldemort's familiar, thus rendering Voldemort mortal. At this point of time, I re-entered the battle, much to everyone's surprise.

"Unfortunately, my sacrifice did not work as my blood ran in Voldemort's veins as well, thereby protecting his Death Eaters through their Dark Marks. That is when I understood the meaning of a particular line in the prophecy. 'Neither can live while the other survives' did not refer to me and Voldemort. It referred to the Dark and Light sides. Soon, people on both sides were dead, and Riddle and I were the only ones left fighting. He cast the killing curse at me one last time, using the Elder Wand. However he failed to take into account the fact that the wand's allegiance was to me. The curse rebounded, and the wand came into my hands.

"What I've failed to mention to you was that I was the owner of all three Deathly Hallows. I was the Master, or rather Mistress, of Death. And I'm sure I don't have to explain it to you, assuming that here too you were once acquainted with Grindelwald?"

She pauses for his response, shifting the sleeping baby slightly. Her arms are beginning to pain, and she is scared to yank her hair out of the baby's hand, lest it begin to cry.

"I'm well aware of the Deathly Hallows, Ms. Potter. Please do continue."

"As I was saying, Death appeared physically in front of me, now that I had all three items on my body. He congratulated me on finishing that thread of time properly, and gave me two choices. To either live out that completed thread and die normally, thereby allowing me to move on to a new thread as a totally new entity, or to immediately move to a different thread where I would retain my identity and my memories. Seeing as everyone I loved had perished in the battle, I chose the latter option.

"And that is how I found myself at Godric's Hollow tonight, waking up just after Voldemort had killed my parents in this universe as well. It felt like coming out of hibernation, to be honest. The last instructions that Death left behind for me was that I'd have to set right everything that went wrong in my thread. And He said that the fabric of time will allow wrinkles to be smoothened."

Bella finally stops and takes a deep breath. She shifts her arm and wandlessly conjures a goblet of water to drink.

Dumbledore leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. When he opens them, his eyes shine fiercely with determination.

"I believe you, Ms. Potter."

She breathes out a sigh of relief, and then replies with a smile. "Please call me Bella, sir. After seven years of being called Bella by you, Ms. Potter seems too formal."

"Very well, Bella. I believe there are certain things to do now, such as finding out what is different between your thread and this thread. For one, the baby you hold is Harry James Potter."

Bella nearly drops the baby. So she was right! The baby _is_ a 'he'. Belatedly, she realises that she no can longer refer to him as an 'it'.

"Sir, shouldn't we do something about Sirius over-reacting and acting impulsively? Assuming that he was not the Secret-Keeper in this universe."

"That can be easily arranged, Bella."

He sends out a Patronus, asking Sirius to Floo in as soon as possible. He then turns around to ask Bella, "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Definitely, Professor."

"You needn't call me Professor, Bella. In this thread, I shall be your mentor and guide, not your Headmaster."

"You'll always be a Professor to me, sir," she replies, smiling slightly. She stands up and starts pacing up and down, gently rocking the baby, Harry.

Harry turns in her arms and twists his hand further through her hair, and she grins at his angelic face, wondering how a small one year old could look so adorable.

The Floo burns green, and Sirius Black steps out. His hair is cut short and he's dressed impeccably. Bella feels her breath hitch. She feels the way that she felt a long time back. She tries to look away, but it's too late, because his blue-grey eyes lock gazes with her own.

"Lily? James? Lily and James?" he asks, confused. Bella turns to face Dumbledore, to find him staring at Sirius contemplatively. Bella decides to not answer.

"Is that Harry in your arms?" he asks, his mannerism changing all of a sudden. He takes a couple of intimidating steps towards her. Immediately, Bella has her pale white wand out, and points it at him. "Where is James? Lily? WHO ARE YOU?"

Harry wakes up in her arms, and she finds it hard to comfort the restless baby when she has her wand out.

"Sirius, stop scaring her. Yes, that is Harry. But I asked you to come here for a totally different reason. Were you the Potters' Secret-keeper?"

Sirius moves away, and he looks at Dumbledore warily. "Oh. Oh no. That bastard." He tries to step into the Floo, but Bella is faster. Sirius is pulled back into the room. She slams him against the chair and has black ropes tied around him in the blink of an eye.

Dumbledore's voice turns gentle. "Voldemort found Lily and James tonight. He murdered them, but couldn't kill Harry. The young lady here found Harry and brought him to me."

"No... NO! It can't be! Remus is the traitor, not Peter. Never Peter. How?" he howls, and Bella feels her heart break. Harry is now awake and squirming eagerly in her arms. He obviously wants to go to his Godfather.

But Bella isn't too quick to trust him. Even if the war feels like a distant memory, she doesn't know if she can trust the man in front of her. This Sirius could very well be a traitor here, just the way this world's Bella was a boy named Harry.

"Tell me, were you the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" Dumbledore asks again.

Sirius looks distraught, but answers. "No, I wasn't. We switched Keepers at the last minute, so that it would be foolproof."

Bella speaks for the first time since Sirius has entered the room. "Swear it on your magic." She flicks her wand and the ropes come loose.

Sirius takes out his wand from an invisible holster on his arm - Bella feels impressed - and holds it up.

"I, Sirius Black, swear on my magic that I never was the Secret-Keeper for Lily and James Potter, so mote it be."

A blue light shines from the end of the wand, and Bella exchanges a look with Dumbledore. He nods his head, and calls out to Fawkes. The bird flies to sit on his shoulder. He raises his hand and wandlessly ties Sirius up again. Sirius struggles, as his wand drops to the floor. Bella summons it to her and tucks it away inside her robe pocket. Sirius scowls at her.

"I have some important work to do now, such as apprehending Peter Pettigrew. Bella, I want you to stay here and keep an eye on Sirius and Harry. I've keyed the wards such that no one other than me can enter or exit the room for now."

Bella nods her head slowly. "Of course, Professor."

Sirius is not so polite. "I should avenge their murders. It is my job! It's my fault they're dead! I suggested the switch!" he yells, but Dumbledore is long gone.

Harry manages to wriggle out of her arms and totters over to Sirius. She sighs and pulls a chair closer to Sirius'.

"Who are you?" he asks almost rudely and all of a sudden, Bella just feels tired. She can feel a weariness in her bones.

"Fuck off," she says eloquently, before she passes out in her chair.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella springs up as she feels her wand grow hot against her arm. She's ready to Stupefy people wandlessly, when she realises what is going on. Harry is trying to take her wand, a look of absolute concentration on his face.

She looks up at Sirius, and he looks away.

"Did you just try to get Harry to steal my wand?" she asks him incredulously.

He mutters something under his breath, and she picks up Harry and coos at him. "You shouldn't be such a bad boy listening to Padfoot, Harry," she chastises him gently. He gurgles at her and wriggles in her arms.

She sets him on her lap and takes out her wand. She transfigures the armchair in the corner into a comfortable crib. She transfigures the paper weights from Dumbledore's desk into rattles and sends them flying into the crib. Harry laughs delightedly at the zooming objects.

She picks him up gently and places him inside the crib, where he immediately starts playing with a rattle.

She walks back to her seat and looks at Sirius. He glares at her mutinously. She rolls her eyes. Apparently, Siriuses of all universes are stubborn.

Bella decides that being polite is the best option.

"Mr. Black, is there something I could help you with?" she asks as politely as possible.

"You could let me out," he says, sneering at her.

Bella feels extremely grumpy, but she keeps herself calm. At least, she makes herself look calm externally. Internally, she wants to lock up this man in a different room and then go to sleep.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Black. I believe you had some questions you wanted to ask me?" she says, channelising her inner Dumbledore.

"For starters, who the fuck are you?"

Bella bites back a groan. No wonder Snape hated him. This man was rude beyond measure! She decides to tell him the truth about herself, and see how he reacts.

After all, she wants to remain in Harry's life and protect him from everything. And if she wants Sirius to let her be in Harry's life, she will _have_ to be nice to the idiot sitting in front of her.

"You won't believe me if I tell you."

He narrows his eyes, and barks out a bitter laugh. "Who do you think you are? Voldemort in a skirt?"

Bella loses any patience she has with the man in front of her and rolls her eyes. "Yes. I'm Voldemort in a short skirt. I like the colour pink and love diamond jewellery. I make all the Death Eaters proclaim me to be the most beautiful cross dresser they've ever seen." She keeps looking at him expressionlessly.

"Fine, I'm sorry. But you have to understand. My closest friends are dead, and I find you, a stranger, holding a child who is like my own son. I'm upset, and I deserve a break." He looks down at the carpet. His mood swing doesn't faze her in the least.

Bella feels her gaze softening. "It's not your fault, Padfoot," she says, sensing his guilt.

He freezes, before looking up so fast that she thinks he might get whiplash. His voice drops and he asks in a dangerous whisper, "What did you just call me?"

Bella pinches her nose and tries to push back that headache she can feel coming on.

"Ask me all the questions you want, and I'll answer them all honestly. Alright?" she asks, meeting his eyes fully. He blinks.

"Your eyes are like Lily's. But your features are that of James and Dorea's. Your hair is just like James' though. Who _are_ you?"

"My name is Isobel Lily Potter."

Sirius takes in a sharp breath.

She continues, "And my parents were Lily and James Potter."

It doesn't surprise her that Sirius looks ready to pass out.

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 **OoOoO**

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 **A.N:** Reviews are love. Next update on November 30th, 2015.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** When Bella Potter meets Death, she takes him up on his offer to be placed in a parallel universe. She wakes up to find herself in the Godric's Hollow graveyard, on October 31st, 1981. Her mission now is to save and protect Harry, and give him the life that she never had. Simple, right? It's only once she's all in that she realises that universe hopping isn't all that easy as it sounds. Especially with a certain doglike man annoying her. fem!HarryxSirius

 **Warnings:** Fem!Harry. Crude language. Will have sexual situations in the future. Rating will most probably go up from a T to an M.

 **Disclaimer:** JK Rowling owns Harry Potter & co. I make no money out of this. This disclaimer is applicable to all future chapters.

 **Cover image** : The cover image is based on a picture called 'Girl Harry Potter' by milky0candy. Used with permission. Check out their profile on DeviantArt . com.

* * *

 _THREADS OF TIME_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

* * *

 **"This must be what a parallel universe is like. Everything looked the same, but I suddenly felt like it wasn't. Like everything had been taken apart, brick by brick, flower bed by flower bed, and put back together in the wrong order."**

~ Jordanna Fraibergberg ~

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella stares at the man sitting in front of her. He stares back with equal mistrust, and she stifles her groan. Why doesn't he just believe her? Her tale might sound farfetched, but it can't be that difficult to understand, can it?

Harry makes a noise and she slowly gets up to check on the baby. She can feel Sirius' eyes on her, tracking her across the room. Was he an Auror in this thread as well?

Harry looks at her with wide green eyes, and all she feels like doing is hugging him. So for the time being, she decides to ignore the Marauder sitting in the room, and picks up Harry from the crib.

Immediately, he wriggles out of her grasp, forcing her to let him down on the floor. Once again, he totters over to Sirius, and holds out his hands, as if wanting to be picked up.

"I can't pick you up, Little Prongs. That evil b-witch there has me tied up."

Bella rolls her eyes and walks over to see the portraits. Some of them say something to her but she can't hear a thing; Dumbledore silenced them when she began telling him her story.

She takes the chance to inspect the room, and is pleased to find the same silver instruments that she found there a lifetime ago. It feels nice to have something that is familiar.

She transfigures one of the rattles into a snitch and sets it circling around Harry's head in wide circles, just out of his arm's grasp. He giggles and sits down on the floor next to Sirius' chair, his eyes glued to the golden ball.

She stands by the window and looks out. The sky is lightening up, and Dumbledore is not yet back. All that Bella wants to do is sleep, but she does not trust Black to not act impulsively and make a break for it.

"He'll get hungry soon."

Bella turns around, surprised by Black's words. "What?"

"He usually gets hungry at around five," he offers helpfully.

She narrows her eyes. "Why are you helping me?"

"I'm not helping you, I'm helping my Godson."

"Of course," she mutters. She wonders if the Snape of this thread would be any nicer.

She starts making a cup of tea, not bothering to ask him if he wants one. If he can be rude to her, she can be rude to him as well. The childishness of her logic is not lost upon her. The tea leaves are already brewed, thanks to Dumbledore. She doesn't know where to find the milk, when a jug of milk appears on the preparatory table.

A memory of Hermione talking about Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration invades her mind, and she nearly drops the jug. It's only then that she realises that she'll never again have heart-to-heart talks in the middle of the night with Hermione, or who-eats-more competitions with Ron at breakfast.

Bella feels like sitting down and grieving. Grieving for her friends who are no longer alive in her original timeline. But grieving for them feels like grieving for the death of a favourite movie character; it doesn't feel real. She wonders if this sense of detachment is because of her being thrown into a different universe, or whether her mind is simply compartmentalising because she has someone to care for.

She sets the jug down, not wanting to drink tea anymore. Her shoulders shudder as she sobs quietly. She wipes her eyes with the heels of her palms. She goes and sits on her armchair, and takes her hand to her nape. Her neck hurts like a bitch. Oh, what she would do for a comfortable bed to sleep in.

"Were you crying?" he asks tactlessly. She ignores him and bends down to pick Harry, and places him next to her. The armchair is big enough to accommodate a starved, malnourished teenager and a one year old. The baby rubs his eyes rather frantically, and she wonders if he has conjunctivitis. Do babies get conjunctivitis?

She looks up at Black, to find him waiting for her reply.

"If you're allowed to grieve for friends you lost in this timeline, I too can grieve for the friends I lost in my timeline." She only feels mildly bad for being snarky.

He nods carefully, his eyes dark with anger and sadness. But there's something else there as well: understanding. He understands her, for that one moment. Bella quashes down the urge to go over and hug him. For all she knows, he would probably use that as a chance to nick his wand.

"Why is Harry rubbing his eyes?"

Sirius looks up, and the faintest of smiles graces his face. "It means he is sleepy."

"Oh," she says. She is clearly out of her depth. She doesn't know the first thing about babies. She is, after all, only seventeen. Or is she eighteen now? Her own age feels irrelevant at this point.

"Tell me some more things about your thread."

"You mean things about yourself from my thread?"

"You obviously know me well."

"Well, as I told you, you spent twelve years in Azkaban for a crime you didn't commit."

"And that's why I'm tied up now?"

"Yes. If you hadn't landed yourself in prison, you could have at least argued with Dumbledore for custody over me. My aunt and uncle were such terrible people."

"So Petunia was a bitch there too, huh?" he almost asks himself, his eyes flickering towards the window. And then he says, "Continue."

Bella raises one eyebrow at him silently, and he amends his earlier sentence.

"Please continue."

"You were in Gryffindor, much to your family's disappointment. You ran away from your house at sixteen and went to live with my grandparents and my father. Your mother disinherited you and blasted you off the family tree - "

He interrupts, "Really? She blasted her only heir off?" His eyes are wide, his open mouth almost comical. Her eyes narrow in response as she grimaces.

"Umm, don't you have a brother? Regulus Black?"

"What? Of course I don't! My sister's name is Auriga."

"You have a sister?" Apparently, this thread mixed up people's genders. "She joined the Death Eaters, didn't she?"

"Yes. That bitch mother of ours forced her to. Auriga eventually ditched the Death Eaters when she found out their true nature. Mother is still heart-broken, of course. Apparently she thought that Voldemort would change legislations at the Ministry, enabling Purebloods to be more powerful."

"You mean she is still alive?"

"My mother? She'll probably live till the day I die, sending me Howlers every weekend."

"I meant your sister."

"I don't know. We haven't heard from her, is all. She could be alive."

Bella looks at him with pityingly, and he gets it.

"You think she's dead because she definitely died in your timeline?"

"Regulus died trying to overthrow Voldemort. But none of us knew that. At least, not till we heard Kreacher's story."

"You mean to say that foul creature existed in that world as well?"

"Kreacher was the reason why I fell for that bait which ended in your death."

"I'll have that House-Elf slaughtered."

"It's exactly this type of attitude that made him betray you. And the thing is, I forgave Kreacher for his actions. If you had been nicer, he wouldn't have done it."

"So from now on I must be nicer to him if I don't want to die?"

"Be nicer to everyone."

"According to your story, you were nice to that rat bastard, and look where it landed you. He used your blood to resurrect Voldemort," he argues quickly, and for a moment, Bella is impressed by his attention to the minor details of her story.

"I escaped with my life while on the run because of that act of kindness that I had bestowed upon him earlier. In a way, all debts were settled."

He randomly changes topics, and asks her, "What was my Animagus form there?"

"A dog."

He smiles smugly, and she feels like wiping it off his face. Something about him irks her. She picks up a yawning Harry and starts rocking him.

"You were such a cute poodle, Black."

She smirks as he splutters. When his mouth finally just hangs open, and his eyes wide with horror and revulsion, she is overcome by silent laughter, and she starts laughing. When she finally stops, she realises that sometime while laughing, she has bent over and nestled her face into Harry's tummy.

She looks up to find him glaring.

"What was my real Animagus?"

"A Grimm."

"Thank Merlin," he sighs, looking relieved.

Bella is too tired to carry Harry to the crib. She summons it and places it next to her chair and lowers him gently into it. She trasfigures the throw-cushion from her own chair into a baby pillow. She takes out her invisibility cloak and wraps it around the baby's body like a blanket, having run out of things to transfigure.

"That's James' invisibility cloak!" cries Sirius.

"Possibly," she replies, wondering if the heating charms woven into the cloak will be sufficient for Harry.

"James lost it when he sneaked out of his house when he was fourteen."

"Uh huh," she says tiredly. She just wants to sleep.

"Give me my wand," he almost whines.

She looks into his eyes, and enunciates clearly. "I don't trust you to not do something reckless. You are Harry's Godfather. He is supposed to be in your care. I will not have you mess up this thread the way you messed up my thread."

She removes her outer robes and her shoes. She folds her legs to her chest, covers herself with her outer robes, leans sideways against the arm of the chair and goes to sleep.

She doesn't see Sirius looking at her face, a hungry look in his eyes. She doesn't see his features soften as he sees more similarities between her face and her parents'. She doesn't see him shed tears over his two dead friends. She doesn't see him make up his mind to protect her. She doesn't see him decide to turn over a new leaf.

She sleeps, oblivious to the world around.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Something hits Bella in the middle of her chest, and even before she's fully awake, she's up, her wand clutched in her hand. A scream makes her wake up truly and she's not all that sorry to see boils sprouting on Sirius' face.

She looks down to see that his leather boot was what had woken her up. The idiot had flung his shoe at her to wake her up.

"Why did you curse me, you stupid woman?" he howls.

His howls and screams wake up Harry, who starts making distressed noises as well. Bella ignores Black for the moment, and goes over to pick up Harry. The second she picks him up, he quietens, looking at her with wide green eyes.

She untangles him from the cloak, and sets him down gently. He grins toothily at her, and starts wandering around the room. Bella is glad to note that he isn't tall enough to reach all the breakable items and the books. She takes her cloak and drops it on her chair.

Now that Sirius has stopped making unholy sounds, she answers him.

"I've been on the run for the past year, running from crazy people who wanted me dead. How did you think I was going to react to being woken up that way?"

"I wanted to go to the loo."

"You could have woken me up by calling my name," she says, pointedly.

"Will you please let me go to the loo right now?" he asks, stretching out the 'please' sarcastically. Bella once again finds herself empathising with Snape.

Her foot kicks a paperweight lying on the thick carpet, and she stands still as she realises that the snitch has gone back to its original form. She hurries over to the crib to find a glass paperweight in the place of the rattle.

She feels awful. What if the glass had broken and cut Harry? What if the shards had blinded him? In retrospect, she realises that she shouldn't have left the rattle there in the first place. She doesn't know a thing about parenting, and yet, somehow, she doesn't want to relinquish Harry over to his irresponsible Godfather.

"Let me loose, you crazy female," yells Sirius and she turns around tiredly. Harry finds the whole thing funny and giggles. The sound makes her smile.

She waves her wand and Black is free. He stands up immediately, and then stumbles. She guesses that his legs must have gone to sleep. He takes a step towards her, but she throws him a warning glance.

"Come this way and I'll hex you. I fought Voldemort. I can fight you," she threatens, making her voice low.

"I just want my wand to make these boils go away. They fucking hurt."

"Use the loo and come back. I'll undo the jinx."

He glares at her malevolently before heading into Dumbledore's private quarters. She hopes the old man will not mind the intrusion.

Right at that moment, a silver phoenix appears, and says in Dumbledore's voice, "Peter Pettigrew tried to frame Remus Lupin and escape, but was caught by the Aurors. In the process of escaping, he killed twelve Muggles and one Auror. He's in a detaining cell right now."

Bella realises she's still holding her breath, and breathes out slowly. Harry makes a noise when the phoenix disappears, and wanting to please the baby, she casts her Patronus.

As the stag trots over to the baby and nudges him playfully, a voice asks from the shadows, "You really are James' daughter, aren't you?"

She looks up at him and smiles. He smiles back at her, and it makes his usually haughty face look pleasant, despite the angry red marks on his face.

"Woman, undo the boils."

Bella stops smiling. Obviously, the man knew how to ruin a moment. For the first time in her life, she feels like calling him a mutt, just like Snape used to.

She is tempted to make him ask nicely, but she doesn't think it is worth the effort.

"Pettigrew's been apprehended."

"Yeah, I heard," he says as his face twists into one of anger. With the boils covering his face, he looks almost grotesque. Harry starts making disturbed noises at seeing his Godfather's face like that.

Bella waves her wand and the boils disappear. Harry stands up unsteadily on his small legs and totters over to Sirius. Sirius bends down and picks up the baby, and growls at him playfully.

Bella frowns as she notices that Harry is wearing only socks. Should she transfigure something into shoes for him?

"What's the time now?" he asks, looking at Bella. She looks around for a clock, but can't find one. What kind of a Headmaster doesn't have a clock in his office? She casts a silent Tempus charm.

"Eight A.M. Why?"

"I'm surprised Harry hasn't cried for food yet. It's three hours past his feeding time."

Bella narrows her eyes at the baby, who seems to be content pulling Sirius' hair.

"He doesn't look hungry. But I guess we can give him some food and see if he eats it," she says, her voice sounding uncertain to her own ears.

"Right, we need baby food," he says, authoritatively. Bella continues staring at him, and he sighs. "Milly," he calls out.

A house-elf wearing a clean, pressed pink frock appears, and bows down. "Master Black called Milly. Milly will do as he wishes."

Bella stares in shock. Apparently the house-elves of this thread wear decent clothes and speak good English. She wonders if she should free Dobby in this world as well. For all she knows, Dobby of this world might enjoy working for the Malfoys.

"Milly, could you please bring food that a one year-old can eat?"

"Milly will be a moment, young master." She disappears with a crack, which makes Harry grin excitedly.

Bella ruffles Harry's hair with one hand as she walks towards Dumbledore's private quarters. She has to use the loo now. She clutches her wand in her other hand, because she still doesn't trust Black.

"Second door on the left," he says, absently, when she pauses at the doors. She turns back to look at him.

"Thanks."

He merely nods at her.

Bella takes extra time in the bathroom, curiously examining her own appearance in the gilded mirror. She likes the fact that Death has healed all the wounds that she got in the battle... Yesterday? The battle feels like it was a lifetime away, though. She feels like someone who has just gotten out of hibernation.

When she finally exits the bathroom, she hears a loud wailing noise that has her rushing to Dumbledore's office. She opens the door to see Harry bawling his head off. She grimaces at how loud he's being, and enters the room.

Harry immediately stops crying.

Sirius raises his head warily, and shoots her a weak smile. Bella belatedly realises that he looks good, really good, despite not having slept much last night.

"Go back inside for a moment," he says.

Bella raises one eyebrow at his tone, and he rolls his eyes.

"Ms Potter, please go back into that room for just a minute," he repeats, not impolitely.

The second she steps out of the room, the door not even closed, Harry starts bawling again. She keeps the door open and turns around to look at Sirius. She finds him looking at her with a curious gleam in his eyes.

"Take a step forward," he calls out, and Bella is oddly reminded of a Muggle game that she used to play in school.

She takes a step forward, and though Harry can't have seen it, he stops crying.

"Go back."

Bella takes a step backward, and immediately Harry starts bawling. She shakes her head and hurries over to the baby, whose cheeks are still wet. She takes him from Sirius' arms, and kisses the baby on his wet cheeks. He gurgles, and she smiles.

"Curiouser and curiouser," mutters Sirius, looking at Harry in amazement.

"You do know that there's no word like that, right?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand references to good literature," he says, after which he sniffs rather proudly.

"You've read Alice in Wonderland?"

"Lily once turned down James for a date, saying that his friends other than Moony were moronic and ignorant. So James forced us to read Muggle literature," he says, a wistful smile on his face. The smile is soon replaced by a look of absolute sadness.

Bella acts impulsively, and hugs Sirius with one arm, holding Harry against her waist with the other. At first, Sirius seems surprised, but then he returns the hug, one arm around Harry, and the other wrapped around her waist.

"You should know that I'm not stupid enough to hug you when you can easily steal my wand. Or take back yours," she whispers into his ear, still hugging him.

The arm slowly slinking along her waist stops, before it tightens and almost pushes her closer to his body. She takes a moment to relish the warmth of his body.

"I've hidden your wand," she says, trying to not let her voice shake.

"You think you're so smart, woman," he growls in her ear. It sends weird sensations running down her body, and she quashes down an involuntary shiver.

She pulls back and smirks at him.

"I don't think so, I know so."

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella feels restless. She doesn't like being cooped up in one room for long, even if it is bigger than a cupboard under a staircase.

"Will you stop pacing? You're making me restless."

Bella pauses to consider the other man, who is glaring daggers at her. Harry meanwhile, is busy playing with what hopefully looks like a stuffed dragon (Bella isn't as good as her father when it comes to transfiguration), obviously cheerful now that he's been fed.

"No."

"No?" he asks, looking confused.

"No, I won't stop pacing," she clarifies, before resuming her pacing.

"No!" yells a child's voice, and she turns to Harry, an incredulous look on her face. She catches Sirius' eye, and they both smile.

The Floo turns green at the exact same moment, and Dumbledore steps in, looking older than ever. Bella waves her wand and restores all the different transfigured things, making them go back to their rightful places. The quill that she transfigured into a dragon too reverts to its original form, and Harry looks at it longingly.

Sirius stands up from his chair, and Bella picks up Harry from the floor. Dumbledore takes his seat, and motions at them to take their seats as well.

Bella is reminded of a moment in her Second Year, but she pushes the thought away, too focussed on the present.

"I believe we have to discuss the delicate topic of Harry's guardianship right now."

Bella feels her stomach sinking, having a feeling she knows what Dumbledore will suggest. She prepares herself for a fight.

"As my counterpart in the other universe did, I too think he must be left with his mother's sister so that he can be safe under blood wards."

"No!" yell Bella and Sirius simultaneously. Harry waits a moment, and yells it out with gusto.

Dumbledore smiles fondly at the baby, before continuing, "However, I think it would be more prudent to leave him with you, Bella. He obviously gets along with you, and you can provide him a caring home. Unlike yourself, in the other world, he should grow up with love."

Bella nods her head, while Sirius protests.

"I will not allow that! _I'm_ his Godfather. Legally, he comes under my guardianship. And I know for a fact that Lily and James explicitly mentioned that in their will."

"Sirius. It seems the Potters made some changes to their will last Halloween, when Harry was a few months old. That's what the goblins told me when I met them an hour back. As you know, goblins like to take thirteen months to process a change in a will."

"Professor, when can we hear the contents of this will?" asks Bella, politely.

"The goblins said they will soon send an owl to each person mentioned in the will. They've speedened the process, now that the makers are dead. "

"I will not have my Godson stay with some stranger who barely knows to give him food on time!" yells Black, sneering.

"I will not have Harry staying with some irresponsible mutt who doesn't know to think like a human being!" cries out Bella, furious at Black's comment. For some reason, though what he said was perfectly true, it pisses her off.

"For all I know, she might be trying to sponge off Harry's wealth."

For a moment, Bella feels like slapping Sirius. She controls her anger and says as coldly as possible, "Unlike you, Black, I can rely on my own talent and skill to pay for my living."

Harry watches from Sirius to her, curiosity evident in his large green eyes. When Dumbledore clears his throat, Harry settles into Bella lap, now looking curiously at the old man.

"As much as I know you love Harry, I think it's for his own good that he stays with Bella. The blood wards can protect him. And in case it turns out he and Bella do not share blood, he will have to be sent to his Muggle aunt and uncle."

Bella feels her mouth fall open, as Sirius splutters.

"Better Bella than that giraffe necked bitch."

Even as Dumbledore chastises Sirius for his language, Bella can't stop the laugh that erupts from deep within her. She can't believe the fact that she's laughed twice today already, when previously, she hadn't laughed in months.

Harry joins in, and giggles uncontrollably. When she stops laughing, he too stops giggling.

Bella wipes the tears from her eyes and looks up to see Dumbledore staring at her.

"What, Professor?"

"Has Harry cried at all since you met him, Bella?"

Bella exchanges a glance with Sirius. She knows exactly what he is thinking. Bella opens her mouth to explain, but Sirius interrupts.

"As far as we've observed, Harry cried for food only when _she_ wasn't in the room. Otherwise, he behaves like he's had a cheering charm cast on him."

"Interesting. Rarely before has it happened, and even more rarely has it been documented..." Dumbledore trials off, deep in thought.

"Rarely have people hopped universes as well, Professor," adds Bella dryly.

With a twinkle in his eyes, he says rather sombrely, "I'm afraid Harry's magical signature and yours have imprinted on each other's, thereby giving you the same aura."

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"I'll take my leave now. I hope you don't kill each other," says Dumbledore, half jokingly.

"Professor? How do we know the blood wards are working?"

"If the wards fall, I'll know, since I am the one who cast it. I'm sure young Sirius here can feel the ward," he says, politely turning to the Marauder.

Sirius scowls, before answering, "I can feel the ward, Headmaster."

"Good, I'll leave then. He pauses to pat Harry on the head. Harry makes a grab for the Headmaster's half-moon glasses, but Sirius moves Harry away just in time.

"Professor, I don't think you should disband the Order. Not yet."

The old man nods slowly, before disappearing into thin air.

Bella eyes the green door in front of her warily. Never did she ever think that she would be in such a dingy apartment complex, with beer bottles and other trash littering the corridors. The peeling letters on it proclaim it to be door number '3B'.

"So, Black. This is where you live?" she asks uncertainly, hoping it's a practical joke he's playing on her.

He adjusts Harry and then glares at her.

"You try running away from home at sixteen and saving up your money."

"Didn't your Uncle Alphard leave you money?"

"Contrary to what some people believe, I _am_ capable of thinking things through, and doing things like saving money."

With that, he opens the door with a key and stalks in, and Bella has no choice but to follow him. Once inside, she closes the door and locks it, as a precautionary measure.

She shrugs off her outer robe and drops it on what looks like a clean piece of furniture. Thankfully, the insides of the apartment seem cleaner than the outsides. The apartment is small, but well maintained. She grudgingly admits to herself that she probably judged the man too hastily.

Harry wriggles off the couch on which he's been placed and totters over to the Muggle television to play with it. Somehow, seeing Harry walk amuses Bella to no end.

"So what are you saving up for?" she asks, when Sirius returns from inside what she presumes to be the kitchen, with a couple of Butterbeers.

"Why, a vintage model of the Silver Arrow, of course!"

Bella feels any respect that she'd developed towards the other man slowly drain away.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella finds herself at Flourish and Blotts a few hours later, looking for books on parenting. She looks down at the list she's made.

~ o ~

 _Things to buy:_

 _1\. Parenting books_

 _2\. Clothes and shoes._

 _3\. Baby food. Brand name: Magikquo_

 _4\. Magical Diapers. Brand name: Cuddlies_

~ o ~

Harry is her priority right now. She has to ensure his comfort. Thankfully, Sirius already has an assembled crib, one that he bought anticipating nights in the future babysitting his Godson.

There are already rumours on the street about Harry. People have christened him as the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. Bella isn't sure how the information has managed to leak out. She suspects Mundungus Fletcher. What amuses her though, is the fact that the people of this thread are just as uncreative as the people of her own thread, when it comes to making up names.

She's so engrossed in her thoughts of her adorable ward that she collides face-first into a woman with bushy red hair, when she goes to join the line at the billing counter.

"I'm so sorry," she says, as she recognises the person in front of her.

"No problem, dear."

The other woman looks at the books Bella's holding, and beams at her. She looks at Bella's rather flat stomach, and Bella feels uncomfortable.

"You're expecting?" she asks, her brown eyes alight with joy.

"Not really. I've become the guardian of my one-year old cousin, and I don't know the first thing about parenting," Bella replies, fudging the details slightly.

Her face falls slightly, before being replaced by one of slight pity. "Never mind that, dear. There's a first time for everything. Personally, I found Diane Kremshaw's book on parenting children below five better than Nettleworth's," she says, looking at the multitude of books Bella has in her hands.

"Oh. Right. I'll drop this off then," Bella says, waving Nettleworth's book in her hand. "Thanks a lot."

"Don't mention it. In fact, if you have any problems at all, feel free to owl me. I've had six children so far, and my youngest is now two," she says proudly, and Bella can't help but smile on the inside, because she knows who the two year-old is. Something feels amiss, wrong, but she can't put her finger on it.

"I'd love that. What's your name?" she asks, smiling. She tries her best to not let her eyes well up as the woman in front of her smiles at her. She'd never thought she'd see that loving smile ever again.

"My name's Molly Weasley, what's yours?"

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

It's only when she's taking a hot shower in Sirius' surprisingly clean bathroom that she realises what is wrong.

Molly had mentioned that her youngest was two, when her youngest was supposed to be nearly one.

Molly had mentioned _six_ children, not _seven._

Bella opens her eyes in horror, letting the soap get into her eye. Her eyes sting, but it's not from the soap.

She feels she is drowning.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

 **A.N:**

An early update, I know. But you deserve it.

Thanks for the follows, favourites and the reviews. I was blown away by the numbers. :')

The serious plot starts in the next chapter.

Reviews are love. Next update on December 7th, 2015.


	3. Chapter 3

**Warnings:** Fem!Harry. Crude language. Will have sexual situations in the future. Rating will most probably go up from a T to an M.

 **Pairings:** Sirius/Fem!Harry. Severus/(?) (Surprise!)

 **Disclaimer:** JK Rowling owns Harry Potter & co. I make no money out of this. This disclaimer is applicable to all future chapters as well.

 **Cover image** : The cover image is based on a picture called 'Girl Harry Potter' by milky0candy. Used with permission. Check out their profile on DeviantArt . com.

* * *

 _THREADS OF TIME_

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

* * *

 _ **"We are made wise not by the recollection of our past, but by the responsibility for our future"**_

~ George Bernard Shaw ~

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella opens her eyes as the alarm in Black's room begins to ring. She groans and turns sideways in an attempt to get off the couch without falling to the floor.

Yes, Black being the gentleman that he is, had not even offered to take the couch for her. But he doesn't know that Bella frankly doesn't care. This couch is far more comfortable than her bed at the Dursleys'.

She waves her wand to dispel the wards she had erected last night, before walking over barefoot to the room which both she and Sirius have decided to be Harry's. Right now, it has a lot of toys scattered all over. Harry is standing in his crib, almost as if waiting for her to get up and come. He grins at her toothily.

"Hello, baby Harry, did you sleep well?" she asks gently, bending to coo at the baby. She has known him for less than a week, and yet she's attached to him. She knows that she loves him already. And it doesn't help that he looks completely adorable in his baby blue onesie.

"La," he says, before holding out his arms in a demanding manner. She likes his nickname for her a lot.

"I believe it's your turn to make breakfast today. I'm hungry already," comes a grumbling voice from behind her, and she turns around to glare at Sirius Black. She tries to ignore the fact that he's wearing only his dark black boxers. His usual Beatles t-shirt is missing.

"In which case it's your turn to feed Harry."

"What? Of course not! He bit my finger yesterday."

"I don't even know why you put your finger in his mouth," she retorts, tired of Black's antics at five in the morning.

"I'm taking the shower first, then," comes his indignant response, and Bella sighs.

"We'll have to leave at half seven to reach Gringotts on time."

"Aren't you glad I live just live ten minutes away from Charing Cross Road, love?" he asks sarcastically, trying to win the previous night's argument.

More than the statement, it's the way in which he calls her 'love' that annoys her. He's never called her Bella till now, despite her telling him explicitly to call her so.

"How is it you're hungry this early?" she asks, trying to change the topic.

"If Harry can be hungry, so can I."

She rolls her eyes and decides it futile to argue with the man. She hears him walk up to her and is about to bite out a sarcastic remark, when he bends and takes Harry out of the crib and leaves him on the carpeted floor.

Her breath hitches in her throat, and she feels her face flushing. Suddenly, it's very hard to breathe, and she feels like giggling. His bare chest looks good, but his arms look even better.

"Like what you see, love?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

His using 'love' clears her head.

"Just shut up," she replies, not in the mood to deal with him and his ribbing. She decides she needs a healthy dose of caffeine.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Remus and McGonagall will be here at seven," she says, as she eats her cheese omelette.

"I still think it's a bad idea to leave Harry with just Minerva."

"It's better than taking him out before all the Death Eaters are caught. Especially people like your insane cousin who are still out there."

He laughs humourlessly, "Did you know that my mother once wanted me to marry Bella? Like I'd ever voluntarily tie myself down to that female."

"Wait, you call her Bella?"

Sirius nods, a confused look on his face.

"Is that why you don't call me Bella?"

All of a sudden, his eyes no longer meet hers, and he grimaces. It all makes sense now.

"And it never struck you to call me Isobel?" she asks dryly.

He mutters something and so she asks him to speak up.

"In Pureblood culture, a wizard can call a witch by her first name only if she gives him explicit permission."

That piece of information throws Bella, for it sounds archaic and actually pretty stupid.

"What? Why?"

"According to the laws of the Dark, a Dark wizard can use a Dark witch's blood in a blood ritual if she has given him permission to use her name with either the winds or her blood as witness."

Bella stares at him dumbly. She is pretty sure that these rules and laws never existed in her thread.

Sirius must have seen her confused look, for he continues, "If you say the words out loud, the winds act as witness, for the winds act as servant to Morgan le Fay. If you give permission in writing, you must sign it in blood, because that too is binding. How is it I never told you all this in the other thread? As your Godfather there, it would have been my duty to inform you. Pretty irresponsible of him."

Bella feels oddly defensive about her Godfather from the other thread. "I'll have you know that my Godfather in the other thread was a damn good one. He broke out of Azkaban for me."

She pauses when she sees him smirking. She can understand why, she's after all defending him to him.

"I don't think these laws existed in my thread, Sirius." It's the first time she's called him by his first name, and he stares at her, slightly surprised.

"So you don't have a magical name?" he asks, curiosity evident in his voice.

"A what?"

"A name given to a child at a ceremony which occurs thirteen hours after his or her birth. It's kept a secret, and only the mother and father know it. When the child turns thirteen, he gains the right to know his own magical name. If the parents die before the child reaches the age of thirteen, the name is revealed to the Godmother and Godfather, so that they can safe-guard it for him. And usually, when a wizarding couple consummate their marriage for the first time, they tell each other their magical names, as a way of protecting it and making their bond more powerful," he recites, almost as if reading it aloud from a textbook.

"Why is it so important to protect it?"

"Because if the name falls into the wrong hands, they will be able to completely control you. Not just your actions, but also your thoughts. They can siphon away your magic. It's considered to be such a despicable act that both Morgana and Merlin together termed the act as one which breaks the soul."

"What do you mean?"

"If you ever steal a magical name of a person who means you no harm, you become Condemned. Your soul becomes tainted, and you will no longer be protected by the Light or the Dark."

It's an information overload, and it's definitely a lot to process. She has a bunch of questions in her head, and she asks the most basic one.

"What do you mean by 'no longer protected by the Light or the Dark'?"

"Every witch or wizard who is born is born with an innate affinity for a certain type of magic. Some theorists say it is genetic, others say it depends on the time and place of birth, while some others say it depends on the time of conception. No one knows for sure, though.

"All types of magic get classified into two types, either Light, or Dark. Merlin protects the Light and Morgana protects the Dark. They're the patron God and Goddess. The Laws they established still hold power over all magical creatures.

"They protect you and your actions. When you die, they represent you in front of Death's Circle, and help you find the after-life you deserve. No one knows what happens after The Judgement, but Merlin and Morgana are said to protect you through all that. When you steal a magical name for less than righteous reasons, you revoke your patron's given protection, and you become Condemned. You will face Death and His Circle all by yourself, and face a consequence worse than dying."

Bella listens, curious and interested. The laws sound so fascinating, and the story seems real. After all, she really has met Death, so it isn't hard to believe that he has a Circle. He seems like the type to have a pretentious Circle with him.

"So are you Dark or Light?"

He quirks an eyebrow at her, and she feels like he is copying her signature expression.

"Why is it that I cannot call you by your first name?"

Bella feels like smacking her face when she realises what she should have realised it when he first said it.

"So you're Dark?"

"I have an affinity to warding magic, which is Dark."

"Oh." She pauses, and then continues, "Am I Light or Dark?"

He grins at her slightly maniacally, before answering.

"You, love, are as Dark as a moonless night."

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella pulls at the collar of the formal three piece robes that she's wearing. She feels suffocated. She can't help the prickling sensation at the base of her neck. It feels like they are being followed.

She once again turns around suspiciously as they near the stairs of Gringotts. Remus looks at her warily.

"Feeling nervous?" he asks, his voice full of concern. Bella feels a strong stab of affection for the man walking to her left. He looks much less shabbier than when she saw him for the first time in her Third Year.

She hopes that she'll get to meet Teddy Lupin in this thread as well. Her insides twist as she thinks of how her Godson's family was slaughtered by the Bitch. Bella had only gotten to hold him twice - once when he was alive and a day old, and once when his body was cold from the Killing Curse that the Bitch had used upon him.

At least the Bitch had been human enough to not torture the baby, though she had she had obviously been fine with torturing and disfiguring her niece's and her sister's bodies beyond recognition.

Bella takes in a deep breath and pinches the bridge of her nose. If she can fix certain things this time around, she will be able to save so many lives. She'll be able to give them the 'happy-ever-after' that they deserve.

"Nah, I'm fine," she says, smiling at him. The smile feels phony even to her. Does she feel sad? Yes. But that doesn't explain why she feels uneasy. Something feels off.

They're on the steps of Gringotts now, when Remus pauses and turns around. Sirius takes that moment to pull at her arm and draw her attention.

"What's going on?" he asks, looking at her suspiciously.

"Nothing."

Remus sniffs at the air rather conspicuously, and both Bella and Sirius stare at him. But he ignores them and continues scanning the road.

"Really?" he persists, as Remus goes down a couple of steps, still scanning the road.

"None of your business, really, Sirius," she snaps at him, feeling slightly annoyed. She isn't interested in sharing her thoughts with anyone, unless they are Ron or Hermione.

"It helps to talk, you know?"

"I was just thinking about my Godson," she admits, her voice low.

"Is he alive?"

Bella looks at him with a blank expression, and says, "If he were, I wouldn't have chosen Death's offer."

He nods silently before looking deeply into her eyes. She feels a prod at her mental barriers, but it doesn't feel intrusive. It feels more like a mental nudge. It makes her feel safe. And so she smiles at him gratefully, thankful for whatever it is that he is doing. He tilts his head to his left as a sign of acknowledgement.

"I think we should go in," comes Remus' strained voice, and the two of them look at him questioningly.

"What's wrong, Moony?"

"It feels like we've been followed. I can sense someone tracking us."

Sirius immediately jumps into what Bella guesses is his Auror mode.

"A scrying spell?"

"No, a physical tracker."

"What if someone's got to Harry?" asks Bella, her sense of unease once again flaring.

Sirius closes his eyes for a few seconds, and breathes deeply. Internally, Bella starts panicking, surprised by Sirius' lack of response. He opens his eyes, and she sees that his eyes have gone fully black.

"The wards haven't fallen. Harry is safe."

He blinks, and his eyes become the usual blue-grey. Bella stares at him.

"Your eyes -"

She is interrupted by Remus, who takes her by the elbow. "I think we'll be much safer inside."

The three of them walk in, and Bella throws one last glance over her shoulder before entering through the bronze doors.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Sirius and Remus stare at her in obvious shock, and though Bella's mouth feels dry, she continues to look at Dumbledore in what she hopes is a bold manner.

She doesn't like the fact that he is the executor of the will. If anything, she is slightly annoyed at how he has insinuated into the lives of her parents. She still hasn't forgiven him for 'borrowing' her father's cloak in the other thread.

Though the goblin, Ragnorak, doesn't seem surprised, his beady little eyes have a calculating look in them, which doesn't escape Bella's notice.

"Professor, could I please have a look at the will?" she asks, holding out her right hand for the piece of parchment. The older man looks at her thoughtfully, an odd look on his face, before handing it to her.

The silence in the chamber is palpable, and Bella takes in a calming breath, before beginning to read the document. The light shines off the letters, and the will seems to be written in blood. Bella suppresses a shiver.

* * *

~ o ~

 _THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF LADY AND LORD POTTER_

 _We, Lady Lily Rose Evans Potter and Lord James Charlus Potter of Godric's Hollow, both being of sound mind, declare this to be our Last Will and Testament. We revoke all wills and codicils previously made by either or both of us._

 _Article I_

 _We hereby appoint Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore as our Personal Representative to administer this Will, and ask that he be permitted to serve without Court supervision and without posting bond. If the earlier mentioned Albus Dumbledore is unwilling or unable to serve, then we appoint Helen Pernelle Flamel to act as our Personal Representative, and ask that she be permitted to serve without Court supervision and without posting bond._

 _The term PR shall hereafter refer to the mentioned Personal Representative._

 _Article II_

 _We direct our PR to pay out of Vault 709 any and all administrative expenses, legally enforceable creditor claims, Magical estate taxes and all other governmental charges imposed by reason of our death without seeking reimbursement from or charging any person for any part of the taxes and charges paid._

 _All other funeral expenses are to be paid out of Vault 709 as well. Instructions for the funeral, choice of marker and choice of location of the grave have been mentioned in a separate document, stored in Vault 709._

 _Article III_

 _We devise, bequeath, and give Vault 243, also known as the Heiress Potter Vault, and its contents to our daughter, Isobel Lily Potter, who shall hereafter be referred to as Heiress Potter._

 _We devise, bequeath, and give Vault 244, also known as the Heir Potter Vault, and its contents to our son, Harry James Potter, who shall hereafter be referred to as Heir Potter._

 _We devise, bequeath, and give the contents of our personal vault, Vault 832, and all articles kept inside it to both Heir and Heiress Potter, in the hope that they share what is kept there._

 _We devise, bequeath, and give the contents of Twin Vaults 245 and 246 to the Heir and Heiress respectively which hold their respective trust funds, which they are permitted to access upon reaching the age of twenty-one._

 _We hereby declare Heiress Potter as the rightful owner of the missing Peverell Invisibility Cloak, whose ownership will be passed to her firstborn, as is dictated by tradition._

 _Heiress Potter is to take up the mantle of Lady Potter, till Heir Potter reaches the age of twenty-one, upon which the title will revert to Heir Potter._

 _We devise, bequeath and give all the remainder of our residuary estate as follows:_

 _a. 50% of the remainder of Vault 709 to Remus John Lupin_

 _b. 30% of the remainder of Vault 709 to Sirius Orion Black_

c. _20% of the remainder of Vault 709 to the Lycanthorpy ward at St. Mungo's._

 _d. The Edinburgh cottage, bought by our own earnings, to Remus Lupin._

 _Article IV_

 _We hereby pass guardianship of Heiress Potter's magical name to her Godmother Helen Flamel._

 _We hereby pass guardianship of Heir Potter's magical name to his Godfather Sirius Black._

 _Until Heir Potter reaches the age of majority, it is our explicit instruction that he live under the joint guardianship of Isobel Potter and Sirius Black._

 _If, by any chance, Heiress Potter is not legally an adult at the time of our death, she will live under the guardianship of either Sirius Black or Helen Flamel._

 _Heiress Potter will find answers to any and all questions she might have regarding her birth and life before our death in Vault 832 and in the chest entrusted to her Godmother._

 _Article V_

 _As Heiress Potter is the first necromancer to be born in the Potter line since Ignatius Peverell, and as the Potters have been guardians of the Art in absence of a practitioner, we hereby declare Necromancy a legal Dark Art._

 _This is our last act as Lord and Lady Potter._

 _Signed,_

 _Lord James Charlus Potter_

 _Lady Lily Rose Evans Potter_

 _October 31, 1980_

 _Witnesses to the Will:_

 _Witch: Helen Pernelle Flamel_

 _Goblin: Ragnorak of Sun Dynasty_

 _House-Elf: Jenky of Potter Manor_

~ o ~

* * *

Bella stares at the contents once again, before asking the lamest question she can think of.

"Professor, are joint wills legal?"

"A joint will comes into effect only if both creators die within thirteen hours of each other's death."

"Okay," she says, not knowing what else to say. She looks at Remus and Sirius, to find them studiously avoiding her eye. She holds back her sigh and looks at Ragnorak.

"When can we inspect the vaults, sir?"

The ancient goblin almost looks pleased by her respectful address towards him. He answers in a grating voice.

"The vaults can be accessed only after the will gets processed, Lady Potter. Which means the earliest would be November 9th."

She nods her head and then looks at Dumbledore. "What about the funeral arrangements?"

He looks at her kindly, and says, "We bury our dead thirteen days after death, Lady Potter."

She nods her head once again, feeling a panic attack coming on. The last thing she needs is to fall down hyperventilating in public. She has never felt this out of touch with reality before. She has no idea what to say, or what to do.

She is now Lady Potter.

She is the legal guardian of her brother.

She has a _brother._

She is a necromancer.

And she can't breathe.

She stares at the shiny bronze torch holder set in the wall behind the goblin, and takes in deep breaths, the way Hermione had instructed her to do if she ever felt this way.

She doesn't have Hermione and Ron to help her out.

The future seems scary.

The walls start closing in, and all she can do is stare at the shiny metal spot.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Want to go to Leaky Cauldron for some Butterbeer?" asks Sirius, looking at her blankly.

"I need something stronger," mutters Bella under her breath. She can at least breathe now. Whatever spell Dumbledore had cast on her has worked. But right now, she wants to go home, cuddle Harry and eat chocolate.

"Potter, are you sure you don't want to go home?" asks Remus politely, and Bella sighs.

"Call me Bella, for Merlin's sake," she bites out, feeling a headache coming on. The sun is so awfully bright, and she feels like snapping the neck of everyone who is shopping at Diagon Alley.

"Alright," he says warily, exchanging an amused glance with Sirius. It doesn't escape her notice.

Once they enter The Leaky Cauldron, Bella hurries over to the table which is at the farthest end of the room, one from which she can keep an eye on both entrances.

While she waits for the two Marauders to be back with their drinks, she contemplates over the events of the morning. Now that she is the legal (joint) guardian of Harry, she can force Sirius to move out of the stupid apartment, though its proximity to Diagon Alley is certainly a plus point.

Personally, she thinks a place in the countryside might be for the best. But then, for heaven's sake, she is an eighteen year old. She deserves to have fun, like any other normal teenager. Staying in London would be best for that. At least she can try to live like a carefree teenager.

The other issue that is of utmost importance is her employment. While Sirius has been nice enough to lend her money to buy clothes and other necessities, she knows that it's high time she found a solid job. Thinking of Sirius' generosity, she realises that it's also high time she bought her own shampoo, even if Sirius' shampoo makes her hair silky and tameable.

But coming back to the issue at hand, she has no idea what she wants to do. In her original thread, she had wanted to be an Auror. But right now, she doesn't know what she _can_ do, let alone what she _wants_ to do. She hasn't had any formal education here, which royally sucks, of course. She wishes Death had sent her OWL certificate over, even if her grades weren't all that great.

She's pulled out of her thoughts when Remus sits down, with two mugs of Butterbeer in his hands. Sirius sits right next to her, with an entire bottle of Firewhisky. She goggles at him.

"Getting drunk at ten in the morning, Black?" she asks incredulously.

"Well, what can I say? I have to live with a bloody necromancer. I need this," he says, without any malice. He smirks at her, and pours out a glass for himself.

She shakes her head, amused. She catches Remus' eyes, noting that he too is amused.

She excuses herself from the table and goes to the loo. Something feels off once again, but she ignores it. When she's flushing inside the cubicle, she hears someone opening the door and entering a nearby stall. The footsteps seem predatory. Or do they really? May be she is just being paranoid.

Though Bella tries to convince herself that there's nothing particularly wrong with this scenario, she can't help but clutch her wand through her robes. She doesn't want to touch it without washing her hands.

She notices dryly that her obsession with being germfree has continued into this thread as well. She blames Petunia for it. That woman was an OCD case who simply loved scrubbing and cleaning. Who on Earth scrubbed to relax?

She washes her hand diligently, keeping an eye on the reflection of the stall which is occupied. The eerie silence sets Bella on edge, and she's about to close the tap and hurry out when the stall door bangs open.

And out steps the biggest bitch Bella has ever known; someone worse that Umbridge herself.

The Bitch. Bellatrix Lestrange.

The crazy woman's eyes are half lidded, and she smiles waspishly at Bella. Bella takes out her wand and turns around to face Bellatrix, as the woman cackles.

"Such a pretty little birdie you are, no wonder my cousin wants to keep you all to himself," she says grinning maniacally.

Bella's head is filled with survival tactics and possible escape plans, but she takes a moment to scoff at Bellatrix's words.

"Hello, Trixie," she says, trying to distract the psychopath standing in front of her. She wonders if she can edge along the rim of the sinks and get to the door. But nah, that plan would be too risky, as she'd have to expose her back to Bellatrix for a couple of seconds.

"Oooh, what's that name lovely? Bella likes it a lot. Trixie sounds so much nicer, doesn't it?" The insane woman starts cackling again, and Bella wonders if there is anything such as ethics while trying to survive. Is it alright if she just hexes the woman in front of her?

"Why are you here," she asks, feeling the adrenaline pumping through her veins. After so many years of experience, she knows that she will soon be doing something reckless. It's almost as though the Gryffindor blood in her cuts off her sense of self preservation.

"To remove you and then kill the Potter brat. You are his guardian, aren't you?"

"What are you waiting for? Back-up? Are you scared to fight me alone, Trixie? Now that your stupid master got himself blown up by a baby, what are you going to do?"

Bella knows she's baiting the psychopath standing in front of her, but doing this makes her feel alive. Tonks' face invades her memory, and a voice saying 'Wotcher, Bells?' makes Bella grip her wand even more tightly. Her knuckles are turning white.

"Why, you infuriating bitch! How dare you call my master stupid?"

She throws a Crucio at Bella, and Bella responds with her strongest double layered shield charm. The curse rebounds and hits one of the stalls nearby, blowing the door off its hinges.

Bellatrix's eyes narrow at Bella's casting of the shield charm, knowing that it is much more complex than a Protego. It's a spell that only advanced Aurors use, and had it not been for Moody, she never would have bothered to learn it.

"Is that all you've got, Trixie?" she asks, waiting for another spell.

Bellatrix rises to the bait and casts the Killing Curse. Bella almost feels sorry for the maniac in front of her. Didn't she know that Unforgivables needed vocalisation, which always led to the opponent optimising on it?

Bella ducks and casts a non verbal _Diffindo_ at the floor where Bellatrix is standing, crippling the older female. Bella takes pleasure in noticing that she must have shattered the bones in Bellatrix's right leg as well. She screams, and it sounds so good. This female was the one who had tortured Mione.

She then expels Bellatrix's wand with her ever favourite _Expelliarmus_. She catches the flying piece of wood in her left hand, thanks to her Seeker reflexes. She catches Bellatrix's gaze, and she smiles cruelly at the insane woman, before snapping the wand.

The burning in her arm when she snaps the wand is what makes Bella realise that there's a shard of glass poking through her arm. Her new robes are effectively ruined. Bellatrix's earlier Killing Curse has obviously hit the wall beside the mirror behind, shattering the mirror in the process, thereby accidentally managing to pierce her with a shard.

The other woman's scream of fury brings Bella back to the present, and Bella watches as Bellatrix takes out a silver knife and throws it at Bella. The moment freezes, almost as if in slow motion. The blade glints as it slowly comes closer, but Bella finds herself unable to move.

She can only think of a similar scene from her other life, she can only think of Dobby and his tennis ball eyes glazing over. She can remember his small form crumbling in her arms.

She's stuck.

The bathroom door is thrown open, and someone casts a spell, deflecting the blade. It impales itself onto the wall exposed by the broken mirror, digging itself into the mortar.

People in blue robes flurry in, and she finally notices that she has been dragged away by Remus. It's then that she notices Sirius' absence.

"Where's Sirius?" she asks, and Remus looks at her with his eyes narrowed.

"And here I was thinking you were in shock."

"I'm not in shock, I promise."

"Really? Because for a second there, it looked like you were going to let the knife stab you." He says it gently, like he's talking to a child.

"I... I just froze up. That's all. Didn't you see? I had pretty much singlehandedly beaten Bellatrix to the point of submission."

He pushes her onto the seat of their table, and takes out a bar of chocolate and hands it to her. She smiles at that, because it is an action that is so similar to that of her thread's Moony.

He sits down beside her and takes out the piece of glass from her arm. Bella hisses with pain, as he smiles at her apologetically. He mutters an _Episkey_ , and Bella can feel the warmth of the magic as her skin knits itself back.

She nibbles on a piece of chocolate and asks again. "Where's Sirius?"

Remus rolls his eyes, but answers her question. "The minute I smelt Bellatrix in the building, Sirius decided to call the other Aurors. And we didn't have a problem locating her, when we heard deafening sounds from the ladies' room."

"Huh."

"What did you do that got her so mad?"

"I have no clue. At least if it had been my own thread, I would have known."

"She looked like she wanted to murder you."

"I might have snapped her wand."

Remus grimaces, as he shudders. "That's harsh." Bella can understand the reaction. After all, the bond that a person creates with their wand is more sacred than a matrimonial bond.

"That's the same wand that has tortured many people."

Remus nods, but their conversation gets sidetracked when Tom, the barkeeper, starts yelling at one of the Aurors dressed in iridescent blue robes about his destroyed restroom. Bella rolls her eyes.

"Excuse me, ma'am. We need to talk to you." It's a young, nervous looking Auror, who has short hair dyed pink. It reminds her of Tonks, and she feels like smiling fondly at the memory of her favourite Auror.

"You don't mind if we do it here, do you?" Bella asks, gesturing to the seat in front of her.

"Not at all," she squeaks, and sits down. She starts asking questions, and Remus quietly slips away.

In the midst of answering the standard questions, Bella catches sight of Sirius, who is talking to Tom in what she guesses to be a low voice. His eyes catch hers and they look at each other for the tiniest of moments, before Bella shifts her focus back to the girl in front of her.

She'll never admit this to anyone, but she likes how Sirius' eyes are full of concern. It makes her feel special.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"So you're back."

The lights are dim, and Sirius can see her sitting on the couch, looking at him intently. He's glad that she's fine. Had it not been for his quick reflexes, he's pretty sure Bella's knife would have stabbed Potter in the heart.

He knows he just can't keep referring to her as ' _her_ ' or Potter. He shuts the door quietly, lest he wake up Harry. He turns around and leans against the wall, feeling like a stranger in his own home.

It's then that he notices that she's wearing his Beatles t-shirt, and it makes him want to smile. He likes how she's claimed ownership over his shirt.

She shifts, and his large shirt slips off one shoulder, exposing a black bra strap that contrasts against her pale skin. She asks in a raspy voice, "Do you want to join me?"

For a second, Sirius' breath catches in his throat, and he feels a familiar stirring at the base of his abdomen. It's then that he realises that she's referring to the two empty glasses and the bottle she's kept on the centre table.

"Is that from this morning?" he asks, amused. The bottle looks a lot like what he ordered this morning, but never had a chance to finish.

"You don't think a little thing like Trixiebitch is going to let me waste Odgen's Finest, do you?" she asks, smirking.

He feels his lips curl into a smile, as he stalks over and takes the seat next to her. They should probably talk about what happened today, about Bellatrix's arrest, and more importantly, James' and Lily's will, but Firewhisky sounds like a nice option.

"Why don't you pour me a drink, love?" he asks.

She smiles at him, her green eyes shining.

Sirius doesn't know it yet, but it is at that precise moment that he starts falling headfirst for a certain raven haired female.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

 **End note:**

There's a lot that's happened in this chapter, a lot which has been left unexplained. It's intentional, and will be explained eventually. This chapter pretty much sets up the scene for most of the plot devices that'll be used over the course of the story. Patience is a virtue. ;)

* * *

 **A.N:**

If I were to title this chapter, it would be 'Bella Versus Bella'. ;)

Thanks for the follows, favourites and reviews. You continue to blow me away. Four communities? I'm shocked. Thanks. :')

Guest and anon, thanks for your reviews. SelenaKat, you're amazing. Special thanks to lewa282 and Belial666. And also, thanks to paulaa90 for making me smile today. :D

Reviews are love. Next update on December 14th, 2015


	4. Chapter 4

**Warnings:** Fem!Harry. Crude language. Will have sexual situations in the future. Rating will most probably go up from a T to an M.

 **Pairings:** Sirius/Fem!Harry. Severus/(?) (Surprise!)

 **Disclaimer:** Duly disclaimed.

 **Cover image** : The cover image is based on a picture called 'Girl Harry Potter' by milky0candy. Used with permission. Check out their profile on DeviantArt . com.

 **Clarifications:** Morgan le Fay, Morgan le Faye, Morgen, Morgaine, Morgain, Morgana, Morganna, Morgant, Morgane, Morgne, Morge and Morgue all refer to the same person. I feel that each character would call her differently. Please don't get confused. :)

* * *

 _THREADS OF TIME_

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

* * *

 _ **"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted."**_

~ Matthew 5:4 ~

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

There is an impatient tapping on the window, and Remus sighs as he opens it to let the paper-owl in. Even before he spreads out the paper completely, the headlines catch his eye. He stares at it.

The owl nips at his finger, reminding him to pay for the paper. He counts out three Knuts, drops them in the pouch, and loses himself in the article. The owl hoots angrily before flying out, but he doesn't bother.

He gets half-way through the article, when he decides he has to talk to Sirius. He hastily throws on a bathrobe on top of his night clothes before stepping into the Floo. The bathrobe is probably not needed, seeing as his old dormmates have seen him in his boxers before, but he does it anyway.

The sight that meets him when he steps out makes him realise that his bathrobe wasn't at all needed. In fact, it wouldn't even matter if he had come here in the buff.

For Sirius and Bella are both passed out on the couch, and there are five empty bottles of what most definitely seems to be alcohol scattered all around them.

But that's not his first priority. Harry is bawling from his room, and Remus rushes to the baby's room, deciding to yell at the irresponsible idiots once they finally wake up.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella doesn't _want_ to open her eyes. There's a pounding in her head. It hurts like someone took a sledgehammer to her skull. She regrets opening her eyes the moment she does so, because the light is so fucking bright. She closes her eyes tightly.

She cringes and sits up, and immediately feels sick.

"Look at who's finally up," booms a voice next to her, and she winces.

"Don't yell so loudly!" she exclaims, before being promptly sick all over the floor. There's a childish giggle somewhere to her right, and she blearily opens one eye to see her younger brother (?) giggling from the arms of an exasperated Lupin.

Remus waves his wand to vanish her vomit and Bella tries to smile at him. But it only makes her head hurt more.

"Bleuugh" she moans, before falling back onto the sofa sideways, when she hears a third voice.

"Quit shoving!"

Something nudges her in the arm, and she grinds back into the warm object with her elbow. The third voice growls. Through the fog in her brain, she recognises it to be Sirius. Bella is about to get up and punch the living daylights out of him, when someone shakes her gently.

She opens her eyes again, and she sees Remus holding out a vial of magenta liquid.

"Potion for hangovers. Drink it."

She blinks at him owlishly, before tipping its contents into her throat, without tasting it. Almost instantly, she feels better.

"Thanks, Remus!" she says, feeling cheerful. Her headache has disappeared!

"Why don't you go freshen up while I try to wake Sirius up?" he says gently, almost as if he's speaking to a kid.

"Where's Harry?" she asks, not seeing him anywhere in the living room. In retrospect, she feels that getting drunk in the presence of a baby was probably a bad idea.

"I just left him in his room."

Bella goes to Harry's room to kiss him hello, and feels indescribably joyful, when he tries to peck at her cheek. She goes to have her bath, grinning.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"You are in charge of a child. And yet, you were both happy, getting drunk. What if one of the remaining Death Eaters had come looking for Harry? What if Harry had got hurt? When I came in, he was crying out of hunger. And you morons were sleeping through it.

"What do you have to say for yourselves?" asks Moony, looking uncharacteristically cold. At least Bella has the decency to look down, ashamed.

Bella and Sirius are seated at the dining table, and Remus has placed five empty bottles of alcohol in front of them. Bella recognises only one of them, the other four seem to be some Muggle brand of cheap tequila.

When Bella looks up, she sees that Remus is still waiting for an answer.

"Umm, I just thought - er, why waste a good bottle of firewhisky?" she finishes, feeling uncertain.

"I would have expected this behaviour of Sirius here, but not of you, Bella."

She feels her jaw drop. Remus thinks she's more responsible? Hell, she's only eighteen. The whole thing seems unfair. But before she can protest, Sirius starts speaking.

"It's not her fault, Moony. She was out after drinking half a bottle of Odgen's."

Bella turns around in her seat to gape at the unshaven man sitting next to her.

"You drank four bottles of tequila and didn't die of alcohol poisoning?" she asks, incredulous.

At the same time, Remus asks, surprised, "You passed out on half a bottle of Firewhisky? What the hell?"

"Muggle alcohol isn't potent enough to get wizards drunk. Large quantities are needed," answers Sirius, before turning to answer Remus. "I believe, Moony, that our dear Prongslette here has never been drunk before," he says, with a smirk.

"Hey! I've had Butterbeer before!"

"Please, most six year olds have drunk Butterbeer," says Sirius, sneering.

Bella knows that this will soon into one of their many pointless arguments, which is why she is glad when Remus interrupts them.

"As much as I'd like to let you both fight once again, I really came over to show you this."

Remus spreads out the Daily Prophet on the table, after making the bottles fly into the trash can.

Bella almost groans out loud when she sees the name of the writer. Will she _never_ get a reprieve from that stupid vapid blonde bint?

* * *

 _BELLATRIX LESTRANGE, YKW'S RIGHT HAND WOMAN, ARRESTED WITH HELP FROM A MYSTERY WOMAN - POSSIBLE SISTER OF THE BWL?_

 _~ By Rita Skeeter ~_

 _It is with the greatest of pleasure that the Daily Prophet wishes to announce that Bellatrix Lestrange née Black was arrested yesterday. Lestrange has been charged with murder and torture. She has killed 23 people (that the Aurors know of) and has also tortured over 70 people using an Unforgivable._

 _In fact, before being arrested in Diagon Alley's The Leaky Cauldron, Lestrange had broken into Longbottom Manor, and had managed to torture Frank and Alice Longbottom into what the healers at St. Mungo's have decided to be permanent insanity. Lady Augusta Longbottom, the mother of Frank Longbottom, has already pressed charges against Lestrange._

 _Now, coming to the interesting story of Lestrange's arrest. The Aurors would not have been able to capture her, had it not been for the mysterious help of a Potter. That's right! A Potter! Apparently, our dearest Boy-Who-Lived has a sister!_

 _According to an unnamed source who was at the Leaky Cauldron enjoying an early lunch, loud noises of crashing and a few shouts and screams were heard from the pub's ladies' room. Immediately, within a few seconds, a group of Aurors Apparated directly into the pub. They all rushed into the ladies' room, and a few minutes, a few more loud noises and one loud scream later, a pale girl with long black hair was brought out. A few more minutes later, a screaming, slightly insane looking Bellatrix Lestrange was brought out. Apparently, she had to be_ _ **dragged**_ _, because her leg looked suspiciously limp. The source surmises that she must have broken her leg._

 _Upon reading the report that the Head Auror Amelia Bones made available to the public late last evening, we found out that an Isobel Potter had defeated Lestrange in a duel. That's right, the Death Eater who had been previously thought of as undefeatable had been defeated by a virtually unknown slip of a girl! And apparently, the girl even snapped Lestrange's wand. Ouch!_

 _In an attempt to get you, dear Reader, the most accurate news possible, this reporter took it upon herself to research this mysterious person. Here are some of the amazing facts that was found in the Ministry's Public Records Department. An Isobel Potter was born on 31st July of_ _ **1978**_ _. You read that right! **1 9 7 8** __**!**_ _That's only three years back! How does a three year old have the appearance of an adult?_

 _On the 2nd of May, 1981 (that's this year, if you're confused), Helen Flamel filed for an Adulthood Recognition for her ward Isobel Potter, under the Ancient Bloodline Protection Act. The age for Ms Potter was given as 18, as of July 31st, 1981. Further records pertaining to this have been blocked from public viewing._

 _The Ancient Bloodline Protection Act has become obsolete in the recent past, due to the rapid advances in the medical field. However, it seems the Potters were right in making use of it. Is it possible that they Saw their early demise? Is it possible that they knew that YKW would come after them? Is that why they had their first born placed under the protection of an Immortal? Why wasn't the same done for young Harry? Were the Potters partial to their daughter?_

 _A lot of details are missing, not letting us see the whole picture. Nevertheless, we should be thanking Ms Potter for helping in the capture of Lestrange. For all we know, Ms Potter could have been taught Ancient Battle Magyks by the Flamels, which would explain her easy win over Bellatrix Lestrange._

 _Helen Flamel, daughter of Nicholas Flamel of the Philosopher's Stone fame, upon being contacted for further information, declined to comment._

 _We, at the Prophet, promise to keep investigating, till you, lovely Reader, find out the full truth._

 _Arrest of Rodulphus & Rabastan Lestrange Page 3_

 _List of Incarcerated Death Eaters Page 7_

 _Where are the Flamels now? Page 12_

* * *

Bella groans and bangs her head on the table once she finishes reading the article. In fact, she had been tempted to do so even before she read the whole article. The name of the writer had been enough to make her feel that way.

"Hush, it's alright," comes the voice of Sirius from her right side, as he rubs circles onto her back. Bella isn't particularly upset, she's just annoyed. But she's happy to let Sirius be under the impression that she's upset, if it means he'll keep rubbing circles like that. His hand is so delightfully warm, and it makes her feel tingly on the inside.

Remus clears his throat, and Bella looks up to see an amused smile on his face.

Feeling like a fraud, Bella speaks out aloud, "I'm not upset. I'm used to Skeeter and her style of tabloid journalism."

"Oh?" asks Sirius, stopping rubbing her back. She wants to whine in protest.

"Skeeter is a new journalist. She's quite dedicated to making an article gossipy. How can this article even be _allowed_ to make front page news? It would be better suited for Witch Weekly," says Remus darkly.

Bella knows she should probably comment on the Daily Prophet being a lousy paper, but she's just glad that Sirius hasn't moved his hand away from her back. He rests it there, almost casually, and Bella feels so girlish, all of a sudden. She blames the alcohol she had last night for feeling so girly. She's the Mistress of Death. She should be made of sterner stuff!

Her mental chastisement of herself works, because she immediately starts feeling more alert.

"Are there any bugs around?" she asks, and Remus and Sirius both look at her like she's mad. Sirius' hand slips down and rests on the seat of her chair now. She ignores it.

"Did you say bugs? As in insects?" asks Remus, trying to sound polite. Bella almost smirks at how nice he's being. It's pretty apparent that Remus' niceness hasn't changed over the threads.

"In my thread, Skeeter was an unregistered Animagus. She's a beetle. There's a good chance she's somewhere here, seeing as that's how she got news about me in my thread."

"I can check that easily," mutters Sirius, taking his left hand away. Why is she paying so much bloody attention to Sirius and his hand? She has more important things to do.

Sirius brings both his palms in front of his face, almost as if he's about to clap. He stops when his palms are two inches away from each other. He moves his palms away, and brings them forcefully to the same position, a few inches apart. It looks like he's compressing the air in between his palms.

Bella watches, curiously. She can smell the magic. It's Dark Magic, but it doesn't smell rancid, like what she smelt at Godric's Hollow. This smells like chocolate and mint. Was what she smelled on Halloween even Dark Magic? Was it, possibly, Condemned Magic?

"There's no one in this house apart from Harry, you both, and me," he says, and Bella notices that his eyes are once again fully black. There's no pupil, iris, or anything else. The whole thing is pitch black. He blinks twice, and his eyes return to normal.

"You eyes! That happened yesterday as well!" cries Bella. This time, she will not let it go without an explanation.

Remus and Sirius exchange a look.

"I'm going to have a bath. Remus can have the honour of teaching you," says Sirius smugly, before heading towards the bathroom. Bella takes a moment to scowl at him, glad that she finished all the hot water. She knows that he's a wizard and can heat it up with the wave of a wand, but she still feels a vindictive and childish pleasure at the thought of him screaming under cold water.

"How much do you know about Dark and Light Magic?" asks Remus.

Bella quirks an eyebrow and tilts her head. "Sirius told me yesterday about Morgana and Merlin and being Condemned. He explained a little about Magical names and why a Dark Witch can't be called by her first name by a Dark Wizard unless she gives him permission."

Bella waits for Remus to pass a judgemental look the way Sirius had yesterday, but it never comes.

"Right. So let's start with the energy that fuels each type of Magic. Light Magic feeds off your emotions, while Dark Magic feeds off your soul. The soul is such a huge reservoir of energy, that it doesn't matter if you siphon off a little energy off it. That is why Dark wizards can cast a few Light spells easily, like the Patronus charm, while not all Light wizards can cast Dark spells easily. That said, there are quite a few Light spells that Dark wizards and witches have difficulty with."

Bella nods her head, wishing she had a piece of parchment and a quill to take notes with. This takes her back to her Third Year. Remus truly is an amazing teacher.

"So Light Magic is renewable and Dark Magic is... Umm... Non-renewable?"

"Precisely," Remus beams at her, before continuing. "That's why Dark wizards and witches who participate in huge rituals have lower life expectancies. Similarly, that's why a Light wizard who goes numb and becomes depressed is as good as dead. Once his magic uses whatever energy is there in his reservoir, he dies, unless he can renew it again. Dark wizards have exponentially larger reservoirs, to make up for the fact that their energy is not renewable.

"Have you heard of the saying 'The eyes are the windows to the soul'? Well, it's true. You get to see the depths of a Dark wizard's soul when her performs the magic that he has been gifted with."

Bella nods in understanding, before trying to frame the question that's been bugging her since yesterday. She wants to get her doubt across properly.

"What is it about a Dark witch's blood that makes it so potent? It sounds kind of sexist. That the male can use the female's blood, but not the other way about."

Remus grins at that, before answering, "According to the ancient stories and myths, many men tried to control Morganna, as she was the most powerful Sorceress of her time. They usually came to her under the pretext of wanting to learn from her. She finally was so fed up with them trying to fool her into giving them her blood, that she complained to her mentor, Merlin. So she and Merlin came up with the law that only a wizard who had the right to call her by her name had the right to use her blood.

"Over time, it became apparent that Dark wizards were the only ones who could even perform blood magic. And since they needed female blood to finish the Dark ritual, it became obvious that a Dark witch's blood was needed. So Merlin and Morganna amended the law accordingly, so that the witches apprenticed to Morganna were also safe."

"That doesn't explain why a female's blood is so important."

"Patience, Bella. I was coming to that. A blood ritual will never work with a male's blood, for the simple reason that a male's blood isn't conducive to supporting new life. A female's blood, on the other hand, personifies new life. When a woman is pregnant, both she and the foetus share the same blood. So only a woman's blood can be used in a blood ritual."

Bella stares at Remus. If she thought yesterday was an information overload, she was wrong. That simply seems to have been the beginning. She has so much to learn. She feels she has wasted much of the past week. It's exactly a week since she landed in this thread, and she's only been learning since yesterday.

Harry starts crying from his room, and Bella checks the time. It's 11 am, a little past his usual lunch time.

"Can you feed him, Remus? The imprint is such an inconvenient thing when it comes to feeding him."

"Aah, the imprint. I forgot about that. If you have any questions about it, I'm afraid I won't be able to answer them. I've never studied it," he says, as he gets a bowl of baby feed ready with a flick of his wand.

Bella watches in childish fascination as the box comes flying out of the cupboard and pours itself into the Gryffindor red bowl that Sirius has bought for Harry. The water jug next tips the correct amount of water into the bowl. A silver spoon (yes, silver) whizzes from the cutlery draw and starts stirring the mixture.

When she catches Remus' eye, Bella smiles at him, and he smiles back at her, though his eyes seem sad.

"Your smile is just like Lily's," he says, before shaking his head and going into Harry's room with the ruby red bowl.

Bella sighs and leans back in her seat. A furious looking Bellatrix Lestrange is on the front page, hissing and biting at the camera. Bella closes the paper and pushes it away.

There's so much she has to do. She quashes down her urge to get her notepad the Muggle way. She's a witch. She summons it, along with a ball pen. For some reason, she no longer likes using parchment and quills. It just feels wrong.

Harry gurgles from inside, as Remus tells a story about flying dragons and dragon tamers in an attempt to get him to eat. Harry is a fussy eater. He prefers to playfully move his face away from the spoon.

She is almost done penning down a list of all the things that she has to do, when the bathroom door opens and out comes a half naked, wet Sirius with an illegally short towel wrapped around his waist.

Bella just can't stop staring. The water droplets rolling down his chest make her feel breathless. He looks positively delicious. She takes a breath in with difficulty.

"Thanks for finishing all the hot water," he says, scowling, and it only makes Bella shift her attention to his mouth. His pinkish lips are pouting, and he looks absolutely kissable.

 _Where did that thought come from!_

Bella hurriedly thinks of unattractive things such as Filch and his stupid cat, both wearing tutus. That does the trick, and she's back to normal once again.

"Stop dripping water all over the floor. I don't want anyone to slip and fall and have a concussion."

"Where's my breakfast, woman?"

"Why do I have to cook breakfast every day? And if you say it's because I'm a woman, I'll cut your wand with a handsaw."

He apparently gets her innuendo, because he gulps loudly before protesting, "No, but don't you want me to feed Harry tonight?"

"I fed Harry last night, so really, it's your turn."

"But it's my turn at grocery shopping. It's only fair that you make breakfast."

"I don't see why I should make breakfast when I'm not hungry!"

Remus' voice interrupts from the other room, "There's no food in your refrigerator. I already checked. Why don't the two of you go eat something and then get me something as well?"

Remus, the peacekeeper.

Sirius gives Bella a wry smile, and for some reason, their argument is over. For now.

Bella gives him a lopsided smile in return.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

It's a nice bright Saturday, and Bella wants to walk, though Sirius wants to Apparate. It's rare to have such a bright November morning, and Bella wants to make the best of it.

The weather's slightly chilly as well, and she's wearing her only pair of jeans. Sirius was nice enough to lend her a leather jacket, though she's carrying it on her arm. It isn't cold enough to wear it. That's just an excuse, though. She doesn't _want_ to wear it. She's wearing a borrowed V-neck sweater that's a bit too loose for her frame, but she likes it when clothes are fashionably loose.

She suppresses a shudder at the memory of wearing Dudley's horrible clothes. She's glad that Harry won't have to go through that, ever.

"I don't see why we have to walk all the way to Cranbourn Street. We're wizards."

"I'm a witch," she says, keeping a blank face.

"Fine. I'm a wizard and you're a witch. We shouldn't _have_ to walk," he complains.

"You might want to become fat and die of obesity some day, but I have no intention of doing that," she says, thinking of her whale of an uncle, Vernon Dursely.

"You'll never get fat. You're literally a sack of bones," he says, seriously. Or rather, as seriously as Sirius can get.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Black."

"So we're back to surnames, huh, Potter?"

"Sirius?" she asks, in a quieter voice.

"Yeah?" he asks in return, turning his face to look at her.

She stares into his blue-grey eyes, and knows that she's doing the right thing. She just knows that she can trust him.

"Call me Isobel."

His eyes widen, before a genuine smile graces his handsome features. He looks so breathtakingly handsome, with the sun shining down on his rather long hair.

"Thanks, love."

For some reason, him calling her 'love' doesn't seem annoying anymore. She turns her face away, blushing.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

An hour later, they're walking back home the same way, with Sirius carrying steak done rarely. Bella finds it odd that she's calling apartment '3B' home. The only home she has ever known is Hogwarts.

Home is where the heart lies, she thinks wryly, thinking of Harry. She loves him so much. It's probably unhealthy to love someone this much, but she can't help it. Even if he weren't her brother, she is sure that she would have loved him this much.

Bella thinks of her 'family' that died in her own thread. Hermione. Ron. The Twins. Ginny. Molly. Arthur. Neville. Luna. Remus. Tonks. Teddy. Sirius. Her own parents.

And she can't hold it back anymore. It's such a pretty day. It seems unfair that she gets to live to see such a day. And what makes it worse is that there's no one else who remembers them. There's no one else who will miss them. Sure, Remus and Sirius are alive here, but they're not the same people she loved.

She's probably a masochist, to think of them on such a beautiful day. But don't they deserve the most beautiful of days to be thought of on?

She doesn't realise she's crying till she feels the tears roll off her cheeks. She tries to inconspicuously wipe them off with the sleeve of her sweater.

She isn't sure if Sirius has caught her crying, but a few moments later, he pulls her into a one armed hug with his free right arm. Bella stares at his left hand which is swinging a white bag. For some reason, her vision seems to be clearer, all of a sudden. Everything is in high definition.

Bella wraps her left arm around his waist and rests her head against his shoulder.

It feels selfish to have him support her, when he's probably - no, definitely - still grieving internally about the loss of his bestfriends.

But nevertheless, it feels nice to have someone to lean on.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Remus leans back against the frame of the door of Harry's room, watching his unofficial godson play with toy dragons. Remus feels Harry has it lucky, in a way. He's only a child. He has no idea of what life has thrown at him.

Remus hopes that Harry will remain a child for as long as possible, unaware of the harsh realities of life. He hopes that that innocence that he sees in Harry's green eyes will never die.

Thinking about Harry's green eyes reminds Remus of another person who has the same green eyes that Lily had.

Isobel Potter.

The girl is a mystery. While her story about being from a parallel universe seems farfetched, there's something about her which makes him believe her. It's probably the fact that she looks so much like James and Lily. She looks like a more mature version of James and a more world weary version of Lily.

His prime amusement in these awful days is from Padfoot's reaction to the girl, though. He wonders how James would react if he knew that Sirius was attracted to his daughter.

Remus is pretty sure that someday soon, once things have settled down, Sirius will try hitting on Bella. And it's not like she isn't attracted to Sirius. Remus can literally smell the attraction. His super-sensitive nose can smell the pheromones in the air.

However, there are so many unanswered questions about the girl. If Skeeter is to be believed, then it would mean Lily was pregnant during their last year at Hogwarts. Was that why she and James had got married two weeks after they graduated in June? Why hadn't they told any of them that they'd had a daughter?

And how does Helen Flamel fit into the whole scheme of things? It is all so bloody confusing. The girl also has no idea about the Laws and their importance. There is so much she has to learn.

The door bell rings, and Remus can smell Padfoot and Bella standing outside. The pheromones they're both emitting are so sickly sweet, he feels like gagging.

The bell rings once again. He rolls his eyes, before going to open the door.

His steak better be done rarely.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

 **A.N:**

A couple of days late. Sorry?

Thanks for favouriting, following and reviewing. 3 And one more community. Yay! :) Thanks.

Sadie, thanks for your review. :)

Special thanks to Ahryielle for spotting a minor error.

So I got my first flame, of sorts. From an anonymous reviewer. How _brave._

Correction wrote:

 _"Good story I guess...but news flash: Harry is NOT a girl or female or woman and never will be. His name is Harry NOT Harriet or Isobel Potter._

 _Thanks."_

My response:

 _Thanks, I guess? I have mentioned it's a fem!Harry story not just in the summary, but also in the beginning of the first chapter. Don't like, don't read. You probably won't be reading this response, but thanks for making me laugh. I haven't giggled like that in a long time, so thank you. And it's nice that you've been so polite._

 **GUESS WHAT?**

My Blaise/Parvati story (Counting Stars) won the first place in the Popular pairing vs Rare pairing Challenge on the HPFFC forum. I'm so excited! If you have time, please do read it and leave behind a review. I've written it in a very different style, and I'd like to know your opinion.

Thanks for reading not just this _long_ AN, but also this story. :')

As always, reviews are love.

Next update on: December 27th, 2015, give or take a couple of days.


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N:**

When I say give or take a couple of days, I apparently mean give or take a couple of weeks. To all those who waited, I apologise.

I hope you, dear Reader, have had a lovely winter break (or summer break, if you live below the equator) and I hope that you have a year filled with opportunities to follow your dreams and contentment. :)

Much love,

A

* * *

§

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter? Not mine. Cover art? Not mine. The rhyme used in this chapter is Cassandra Clare's. I've just modified it to suit this story.

 **Pairing:** Sirius/fem!Harry

 **Warnings:** None for this chapter.

* * *

 _THREADS OF TIME_

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

* * *

 _ **"Family isn't always blood. It's the people in your life who want you in theirs. The ones who accept you for who you are. The ones who would do anything to see you smile, and who love you no matter what."**_

~ Unknown ~

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

The smell of blood is revolting. The smell of death is worse.

Bella is in suspended animation. She watches, as Ron falls down to Yaxley's spell. But even as he falls, he throws one last curse at Carrow, who's duelling Hermione.

Bella opens her mouth to scream as her bestfriend's head hits the ground. But she can't react. She can't move. She can only observe.

She knows what comes next. She's seen it so many times before. She wants to tell Hermione to stop, as the girl turns a gloating Yaxley into a human bomb. The blast kills two other Death Eaters apart from Yaxley himself. But it also kills her.

The scene shifts, and Bella stands alone on a ground full of dead bodies. There's blood and gore everywhere. There's destruction everywhere. The silence in the air is not reflective of the chaos on the ground.

It doesn't matter that she's seen this scene at least fifty times till now. It's like a reopened stab wound that just won't stop bleeding.

In that small moment between when she truly possesses the three Hallows and when Death appears, Bella wishes for something that she has never really been scared of.

She wishes for death.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

When Bella finally wakes up, there's sunlight streaming in. The house is eerily silent, and it takes her a moment to figure out where she is.

She grips her wand tightly in her hand and walks warily into the dining room. She sees a note stuck on the fridge, and upon reading it, leaves out a sigh of relief.

 _'Gone to meet the undertaker. Harry's with Moony. Breakfast/lunch on the table._

 _\- Sirius.'_

Bella yawns as she stretches her arms above her head. With the house to herself, she might as well take the day off and do whatever she feels like doing.

The bacon is cold and soggy, and despite warming it, it makes her feel sick as she eats it. She grits her teeth and finishes the plate, remembering how there used to be a time when she never had enough food.

Forty minutes and a hot shower later, Bella finds herself standing in Diagon Alley.

The bag of Galleons feels heavy in her robe's pocket, as it hits against her thigh. She feels like she has stolen it from Sirius' personal stash, but she rationalises it as borrowing, rather than stealing, as she has every intention of returning it.

After all, what is a little borrowing between co-guardians?

Flourish and Blotts isn't as crowded as it was last week, which allows Bella to explore the shop in a leisurely manner. The shop is much bigger than what it was in her own thread, which Bella finds curious. She stores away that bit of information, not really deeming it important.

She searches all three floors for books on the Laws, before giving up. For some reason, while she can find interpretations of what the Laws mean, she can't find an actual book which states all the Laws.

There's a woman in lime green robes, sorting the books in the Magical Creatures aisle. The badge on her chest proclaims her to be an assistant.

"Excuse me? Could you please tell me where the books with the Magical Laws are?"

The woman turns to stare at her, and her mouth falls open.

"Y-you don't know the Laws?" she asks in a whisper.

"Umm, no?" replies Bella, awkwardly.

"What sort of blasphemy is this! You aren't a Pureblood are you? How dare you insult the name of your Patron family!" she shrieks, as Bella stares at her. The woman's transition from whispering to outright shrieking makes her wonder if the woman in front of her is bipolar.

Surprising herself for once, Bella replies calmly, "Right, forget I asked anything, _assistant_." She probably shouldn't have sneered while saying the last word, but what the hell.

Bella backtracks out of the shop, and takes a minute to observe the autumn-winter fashion of the wizards and witches shopping at Diagon Alley. She hasn't really seen Diagon Alley at this time of the year.

The cloaks that both wizards and witches wear, regardless of their age, reminds her of Little Red Riding Hood. So on an impulse, she steps into Lady Ragtag's, a store which seems more casual than Madam Malkin's, and buys a blood red cloak with a hood (with warming and anti-ripping charms, of course) for herself.

And then because she can't leave the shop without buying something for Harry, she picks out emerald green baby robes for him. The robes have runes for safety, warmth and comfort woven into them, but she mainly picks them out because it matches their common eye colour.

She's contemplating going into Knockturn Alley to see if there's a bookstore there, when she spots someone who looks like a young Rita Skeeter sauntering towards her. Deciding that it's better to avoid the sneaky reporter, she simply walks into the dingy street, observing her surroundings carefully.

She finds a man selling pirated versions of different books on the broken pavement, further down the road. She's taken up by a book called 'Moste Darke Kreatures', which has a companion book called 'Kreatures of the Lighte'. She gets them both for merely five Sickles, as opposed to a Galleon and a Knut which the real ones cost.

The balding seller introduces himself as Mr. Rawburns, which Bella decides is a fake name. But on second thought, she decides that it's weird enough to possibly be a real _wizarding_ name. He promises that the ink won't get smudged, and that the paper and binding are of good quality. She takes his word for it, and walks back slowly to Diagon Alley.

It's when she's trying to decide where to eat that something in the display case of Eeylops Owl Emporium catches her eye. Her breath catches in her throat, as she stares at the bird resting on the swing. _It can't be her_ , thinks Bella _._ But it probably is.

She walks into the shop, a new spring in her step. She probably looks like a small kid, the way she's almost skipping, but she can't help it. After all, she will soon be purchasing the snowy white owlet who was her first real friend in the other thread.

Hello, Hedwig.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

The sofa is bloody uncomfortable, decides Bella. But the book by Damon Scamander is so damn interesting, that it needs more attention from her.

She steps into Harry's room, only to remember that Sirius had miniaturised the cot there to create more space. To save herself the time and the effort of undoing the charm after first finding the miniaturised piece of furniture, she heads into Sirius' room.

It's not like she hasn't been in here, before. It's just that it feels like she's invading his privacy. _To hell with it_ , she thinks, as she settles down on his queen sized bed. For a man who's supposedly single, the bed seems too big.

It's only after she has settled herself comfortably against the headboard that she remembers Sirius' reputation of having been quite the Casanova. She suppresses a shudder at the thought of all the other women who could have been on this bed, and turns her attention to the books.

 _'Our beloved patron, Lady Morgaine is supposed to have had one of these magnificent creatures as her familiar. Though certain mythological texts argue that her familiar was some form of a snake, the general consensus is that it was indeed a Thestral._

 _Many people who blindly believe in the fast disappearing Art of Divination think the sighting of a Thestral is an omen of death, often forgetting that a Thestral can be viewed only **after** witnessing death, not **before**. Of course, it's not enough to simply witness a death, it involves understandi - ' _

.

.

.

Bella wakes up before she opens her eyes. She can feel the warmth and the light of the setting sun's rays on her face when a shadow passes by. An intruder? Instinctively, she opens her eyes.

She gives a muffled shriek and scrambles for her wand, only relaxing when she finds it under the other pillow. Meanwhile, the intruder busily mutters under his breath, glaring at her balefully.

"The blood-traitor brat who broke Mistress' heart lets his Halfblood whore sleep in his bed. Mistress will be so angry to know that the whore even sleeps in the brat's bed. The spoilt brat wants to shower the whore with gifts, though, and Mistress can't do anything about it."

It takes Bella a moment to recognise Kreacher. Unlike her thread's Kreacher, this one is clothed in what seems to be a miniature tuxedo. She's kind of glad that he's not in a loin cloth, and is more than amused by his rant.

When his rant goes on to insult her mother, she speaks up.

"Shut up, Kreacher."

"Oh, the brat's whore expects Kreacher to obey her. But the whore doesn't know that Kreacher will listen only to Blacks. Kreacher will not -"

"I believe the lady asked you to shut up, you miserable excuse of a house-elf," comes Sirius' voice and Bella turns to find him leaning against the doorframe, sneering at Kreacher.

"Kreacher shall report to Mistress that the brat lets the whore sleep in his bed. Mistress will be so disappointed -"

"Shut up, Kreacher. You will _not_ call Isobel a whore or any other disrespectful name. You _will_ listen to any order she gives you, as if she is a Black. Have I made myself clear?"

Kreacher nods his head jerkily, glaring at Sirius, then at Bella, in turn. Bella wants to interrupt Sirius, but she stays quiet. She can talk to Sirius after Kreacher's gone.

"If you've left the books I'd asked for, you can go snivelling back to my mother."

Kreacher throws one last venomous look at Bella, before disappearing with a loud crack.

Bella turns her attention to Sirius, and the way he's staring at her makes a blush creep up her neck.

"So how's my bed?" he asks, conversationally.

Annoyed at herself for blushing, she plays along. "Much more comfortable than the sofa. Could I interest you with an offer to exchange our sleeping spaces?" she asks.

"I have a better proposition," he says, coming in with a predatory smile. Bella pulls her legs up halfway as he sits on the edge of the bed. Suddenly, the bed feels small, and her throat feels dry. Why is the room so hot all of a sudden?

"What is it?" she asks, nervously. She can hear her heart beat. Her robes have parted, and the skirt she is wearing inside has fallen down her thigh, leaving her left leg exposed.

Sirius seems to be studying that exposed bit of skin quite seriously, and never has Bella been gladder that Ginny taught her those hair-removal spells.

He looks up from her leg and says in a low voice. "This bed is big enough, don't you think? Two people can easily fit in."

Her breath catches in her throat, and she thinks her eyes might pop out. She's pretty sure the expression on her face is unattractive, as she croaks out, "Wh-what?"

"We can minimise this bed and bring the other bed into this room as well. We'll literally be roommates, then. And weren't you the one who insisted that the two of us are roommates?" he says, too innocently.

Bella leaves out a long breath, and blushes horribly. _Why is she blushing so much today?_

"What did you think, Izzy, that I'll ask you to sleep with me?" he asks, way too innocently (again). Bella's eyes are narrowed as she hits him in the face with one of his pillows.

"You're such a dick."

"I'm taking that as a compliment," he says as he grabs the pillow with his hands to stop her from hitting him once again.

It's good that he has three more pillows on the bed.

And thus, Bella indulges in her first pillow fight, ever.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella is lying down haphazardly on the bed in a happy daze. A pillow fight, something meant for small kids, should not give her this much joy. But it does, and Bella feels too lazy to introspect about the topic further.

"La!"

Bella lifts her head up and can't stop smiling when she sees Harry walking into the room. She sits up with her arms open, and Harry hurries towards her with short uncertain steps.

"Come to Bella, Harry. Come to Bella," she calls out in her best baby voice, wiggling her fingers at him. When he's close enough, she picks him off the floor and places him on her lap.

She kisses his scar, and he giggles.

"It's unfair, you know?" says Sirius from her side. He's lying diagonally across the bed, and she tries not to notice how his legs are so close to hers. She fails miserably.

"What isn't?"

"It took Harry a month after he said 'mama' to say 'Pafoo'. But here he is, calling you 'La' just a week after meeting you."

"Awww, is Pafoo feeling jealous?" she asks teasingly, as Harry crawls off her and grabs 'Kreatures of the Lighte'. Harry opens the book upside down, and flips through the pages.

"Of course not," he sniffs. "He only likes you because of the imprint."

"He likes me because I'm nicer. You're just being mean," she says, watching Harry keenly as he watches a pair of unicorns gallop in a picture, all upside down.

"I'm mean? Then what about Kreacher? Insulting you, insulting Lily, calling you a whore...," he peters off uncertainly. Bella turns to look at him.

"Kreacher's just bitter. And probably lonely as well, what with serving only your insane mother in that horrible house. You really should make an effort to be nicer to him."

"Didn't you say that he was the one who led to my death in your thread?"

"He did it only because you weren't nice enough to him. It was a consequence of your own actions."

"Were you always this dispassionate about my death? Did you even cry? Or were you too busy sympathising with Kreacher to even care that you Godfather was dead?" he asks, almost cruelly.

Before she knows it, she's off the bed. She's furious, but also hurt. She can feel her eyes beginning to water. It's a stupid reaction, really. She draws in a shuddering breath, trying to speak calmly.

"Kreacher wasn't the only one though, was he? I was naïve enough to let myself be manipulated by Voldemort. If anything, I led to my godfather's death," she says coldly, before stalking out of the room.

She knows he taunted her on purpose, because he's just an overgrown child at heart, but she can't help it. She painfully yanks on a pair of boots before storming out of the house and the building.

She walks into the crisp November air, trying to get her breathing to normal. The cold air feels like a balm against her, but her blood is still boiling.

The few Muggles walking about possible stare at her dressing choice, but she ignores them. She walks about purposefully in no particular direction, working her anger out.

She has no idea how she got here, but she's in a park right now. It's empty and desolate, and the wind makes some fallen leaves rustle. She sits down on the park bench, cross-legged, and starts practicing her Occlumency shields.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

It must be quite some time later for the sky has darkened considerably. A twig snaps and brings Bella out of the meditative trance that she had laboriously gotten into.

She turns to the source of the sound, and rolls her eyes. Because there's Harry, wearing the green cloak that she'd bought earlier today, standing next to a large black dog.

She watches with pursed lips as Harry and the dog come up to the bench she's sitting on. Harry plops himself on the ground and starts playing with the mud.

Bella ignores the dog, and casts a spell for warmth on Harry. Her younger brother (?) turns his head and grins at her toothily, before going back to focusing on the twigs in front of him. It's almost like he felt her cast the spell silently. She decides it must be the imprint.

Padfoot obviously doesn't like being ignored, because he climbs onto the bench and whines in protest. Bella ignores him.

He inches closer and nudges her arm with his nose. She ignores him.

He whines mournfully, and she turns to look at him. His eyes are so large and expressive, and she feels sorry for the dog, if not the man. She lets him put his head on her lap. She strokes his head, out of habit.

Without really thinking, she scratches that sweet spot behind his ears and he growls contently. She smiles when she realises that it's the same place that the Padfoot of her thread liked scratched.

"Is this your way of apologising?" she asks, and the dog burrows his nose into her lap, not looking up at her. _Coward_ , she thinks.

After a few minutes of silence, she speaks again. "I'm not mad at you, you know? At least, not anymore."

He looks up at her questioningly. She stops scratching his head just for a moment.

"It took me a while to realise it, actually. I honestly don't think you meant to say, or rather ask, those things. I think you just wanted a reaction from me. You're a coward, you know?"

She pauses to look into his beautiful black eyes. He looks away, almost shamefacedly. It's funny how expressive he is, even as a dog.

"You're hiding from any grief and pain that I'm sure you're feeling. And my guess is that you're also feeling guilty... Guilty about my parents' death. But you shouldn't feel guilty. It isn't your fault. It's Voldemort's fault. And Pettigrew's. And to some extent, Snape's. But never yours.

"It's similar to how it's Bellatrix's and Voldemort's faults that my godfather died. Do you understand that?"

The dog moves away from her, before rapidly transforming into a human being. He's sitting so close to her, his arm touching hers, his leg against hers, that she can see the tear that rolls down his cheek.

She can't help it. She leans over and kisses that one lone teardrop. She knows how Sirius hates showing any emotion he considers weak. It's another one of those things that are common to both the threads.

He doesn't react to it, though he moves a tiny bit closer to her. She doesn't comment on it.

He rests his head on her shoulder.

She gently rests her head on his, and watches Harry play.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

A while later, Bella's forced to move when Harry tries to stuff some dirt into his mouth. She scolds him, though he seems unbothered, and Scourgifies all the dirt off. He smiles at her so sweetly, and she can't help those tiny pricks of joy that rise in her chest.

"Want to go out for dinner?" asks Sirius, finally speaking.

"My hair's a mess. And my clothes are dirty," she pouts.

Bella never pouts. Pouting is for small kids who want things to go their way. Which is why her own actions surprise her.

"Are you a witch or not?" he asks, smirking slightly, as his eyes light up.

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he takes out his wand and waves it, first at her hair, and then at her clothes.

"What about Harry? He needs his baby food."

"I know this restaurant which has a crèche of sorts. Wizarding cuisine at its best. Babies are left in the care of able house-elves, while the adults get a night off to enjoy themselves," he says, in a lofty, put-on voice.

"Why do you sound like a talking flier?"

"Because I read those words off a flier," he says, smiling lopsidedly. A dimple appears in his left cheek, and something flutters inside her stomach. It must be because of her hunger.

"Am I dressed well enough to go there?" she asks, and he rolls his eyes.

"I don't know how you got hold of these robes, considering the fact that they're of brilliant quality. This is what top notch duellists wear. There's only one man in France who makes these."

Bella takes a moment to look at him curiously.

"I woke up in these robes. I have no clue how they got on. This wasn't what I was wearing...," she peters off uncertainly, not wanting to continue the sentence.

She supposes that Sirius gets it, because he nods his head.

She picks up Harry, who automatically rests his head on her shoulder. She has to resist an urge to coo 'awww' at that. That's something that Lavender and Parvati would do.

"Shall we?" he asks, holding out his hand. She grips it tightly, because she still hates Apparating, while hugging Harry with her other arm.

"Are you scared you'll splinch yourself, love?" he asks, and Bella throws him a dirty glare.

He moves closer to her, and wraps an arm around her waist. He's so close that she can smell him. That mix of leather and soap and something citric.

Before she can ponder about that arm which steadily seems to be creeping up her midriff, they're forced through that narrow pipe of blackness, and are gone.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Sirius! You said we were going home!" she protests, as she looks at the shop they've Apparated to.

It's Madam Malkin's. Bella has never been a girly girl, and one round of clothes shopping is more than enough for a day, in her book. She glares at Sirius.

"You and Harry need formal clothes for the funeral, love."

Bella's jaws clench at that. She is supposedly the daughter, and yet it is Sirius who is doing all the work.

"Fine."

Fifteen minutes later, she's standing in the main part of the shop in a white gown. It's white as snow, and she twirls herself in front of the tall Venetian mirror set in the corner.

"Are you sure this is for a funeral? It looks like a wedding gown," she says, catching Sirius' eye in the mirror.

He's sitting in a relaxed manner on the low seat, leaning against the wall as he looks at her. He looks so bloody elegant, the epitome of Purebloodedness.

When he doesn't reply, she goes back to looking at herself in the mirror. The dress doesn't flatter her much. It makes her look flat-chested, to her chagrin. It almost looks pretty, if she squints at her reflection.

It's too white for her, and it doesn't suit her complexion. She has a thousand problems with the dress. There's a gathered pleating at the waist, and she feels it falls flat, because she doesn't have much curves to support it.

What had Malkin called it? An A-line dress.

Her back feels exposed. The keyhole back is something she isn't used to, and she has this feeling Sirius is staring at it. Her face turns a light pink at that, and Sirius probably catches it, because he smirks at her in the mirror.

The only thing she likes about it is the work at the neck, with black stones and silver embroidery. She's so busy inspecting it, that she doesn't notice Sirius coming to stand behind her.

He stands close to her, and the delicious warmth makes her shiver.

 _"Black for seeking magic, day or night,_

 _For death and mourning, the colour is white._

 _Gold for a bride in her wedding gown,_

 _Red to call the enchantments down._

 _White spider silk when our bodies burn,_

 _Blue sleeves and robes when the lost return._

 _Grey for knowledge that rests untold,_

 _Bone for those who'll never grow old._

 _Saffron to play the victor's part,_

 _Green to soothe a broken heart._

 _Silver for those who serve the Dark,_

 _Bronze for those who seek His mark."_

He says it, or rather sings it, and it captivates her. She turns around to look at him directly. She's about to say something, when Malkin comes bustling in, clutching a furious looking Harry who looks quite dapper in his white baby robes.

"This one here didn't want to get dressed," she says as Harry wriggles in her arms. Bella brushes past Sirius to take the baby.

He quietens down once he's in her arms, and he tries to pluck at the black stones in her neck-work. She sighs and sets him down, something which he obviously doesn't like.

"Is there a crest I need to weave onto the robes?" asks Malkin, looking at Sirius. Bella doesn't like how the older woman completely disregards her and only pays attention to what Sirius says. She finds it sexist.

"Are you familiar with the Potters' Wheel?" he asks.

It's with a smug feeling of satisfaction that Bella watches the other woman pale and clutch at her chest.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

The three of them are sprawled lazily across the sofa. The telly's on, but they aren't really watching it. At least, Bella isn't.

"You know, you never did apologise," she says, at long last.

Sirius turns his head to look at her, but she keeps looking ahead. Harry babbles at the jingle which comes on, and she fondly tries to flatten his untameable hair

"I'm sorry."

She turns to look at him, her lips pursed. "Sometimes, instead of trying to antagonise others, you can just talk, you know? You always have me to talk to. Or Remus."

"When did you get this wise?" he asks, a wry smile on his face.

"How do you know I haven't been this wise all along?" she asks, smiling slightly.

"No offspring of James can claim to be wise," he replies, grinning a little wistfully.

"I guess I inherited Lily's brains, then."

"Intelligence doesn't equal wisdom," he says before looking at Harry and then staring at the TV screen with his eyes widening slightly.

Bella turns to regard it and watches, as a skimpily clad blonde moans under the ministrations of some tall fellow. Her hands go to cover Harry's eyes, as Sirius scrambles for the remote.

Bella and Sirius look at each other, and burst into laughter. It's a long time since she has laughed this way at something silly, and it feels so good.

Harry protests when he realises that the telly's been switched off. He screams "No!" quite a few times, finally calming down only when both Bella and Sirius make colourful sparks come out the tips of their wands.

Bella looks at Sirius, and he looks at her, and suddenly, everything else feels trivial and inconsequential. It's a nice feeling, just the three of them on a sofa. They're almost a family unit, something that Bella has never really had.

She's the girl who never had any real family. Sirius is the one with a dysfunctional one. And finally, there's Harry, who's an orphan, just like her.

She rests her head against the back rest and closes her eyes, thinking of how despite all the things that she has to start working on soon, this moment feels pretty close to perfect. It's close enough to perfect for her, and she'll take it as it is.

She falls asleep, smiling.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

§

* * *

 **A.N:**

( _When will this female stop posting long, rambling ANs?_ )

That was sort of a filler chapter, I'm afraid. We'll be back to slightly more serious things next chapter.

For those who are interested, the dress Bella was wearing can be found on this site:

 **w w w . davidsbridal . com**

In the search bar there, key in the given search-code to see it.

 **SDWG0153**

Almost all the dresses I've pictured for various future events in this story are from this site. It's easy to navigate, and that's what I like most about it. I have Bella's wedding gown picked out already. ;) *smirks*

If you come across any mistakes in this chapter, please feel free to point them out to me. I've only proof read the entire thing twice.

Guest review responses up next. Don't get mad at me.

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Firstly, thank you so much for reviewing. :) Here are the individual answers to each review:

Jlw \- You're so sweet. :) And you used the nickname that I'd been planning on using all along. A niece or a nephew, huh? Did you see the above AN? ;) Please create an account, I'd love to send you a PM. Thanks for reviewing. :)

Guest \- Yes, the age thing is weird, at first glance. It's important to the rest of the plot though. And a lot of it has to do with Lily's meticulous planning. ^_^

Avalon \- Ben Jelen, huh? :D I admit, he's hot, but I always pictured Sirius to look like Ben Barnes. Barnes with his long hair, as Prince Caspian, maybe? Do you mind if I use Jelen as the face for another not-so-well-liked character, whom I happen to love?

Samantha \- There's only one team here, and that's TEAM SIRIUS. So one's either on it, or not. And I assure you, I'm all aboard the Sirius train. ;) I have someone else in mind for Snape, but that might not work out, anyway. There's only one pairing that I'm definite about, and that's Bella/Sirius. :D

Neve \- I'm not a huge fan of angst either, because it usually makes my tear ducts work overtime. My main focus is on the plot and the romantic moments, but at this point of time, it's instrumental to get both Sirius and Bella, and Remus too, to get over their grief. It won't be realistic, otherwise.

Crystal \- I'm working under the assumption that Potter Manor is where Lily and James got killed. And they will be moving somewhere more sensible soon. Again, it's essential to the plot.

Chloe \- I'm so glad that you read the story and liked it enough to leave a review. :) :) :)

Saoirse \- I'm looking at canon as a totally different thread. If we consider canon to be the original one, then both this thread, and Bella's thread, are simply alternate universes.

Tauriel \- Yes! Go Belirius! (Sirella?)

Elsa \- I promise you this, just as I promised Samantha. It's Bella and Sirius, and Sirius and Bella alone. Snape will only be a friend. :)

Once again, thanks a lot for reviewing! :)

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Next update on January 23rd, 2016. (I promise.) Keep calm, and leave me a review?


	6. Chapter 6

**AN** :

I tend to procrastinate. I can't apologise for who I am, so I'll apologise for making you wait.

This chapter is dedicated to paulaa90, SilveryWind and saku hyuuga. Thank you.

* * *

§

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter? Not mine. Cover art? Not mine.

 **Pairing:** Sirius/fem!Harry

 **Warnings:** None for this chapter.

* * *

 _THREADS OF TIME_

* * *

Chapter 6

* * *

 ** _"Zest is the secret of all beauty. There is no beauty that is attractive without it."_**

~ Christian Dior ~

* * *

Sirius turns around to ask Isobel about her new owl (and make a joke about his missing bag of money), but his question dies on his lips when he sees her fast asleep against the armrest on the other end, her mouth slightly open.

Harry too is asleep, snuggled against her robes. His hair, so like James, is sticking up at all awkward angles. One of his fists has bunched her robes, and Sirius finds the whole scene, for the lack of a better word, _cute_.

When she's asleep, her face looks much more relaxed. Her brows aren't furrowed the way they are when she's awake, but it doesn't seem like her sleep is all that peaceful. Sirius knows that it's not just tonight, though.

If the bags under her eyes are any indication, she seems to sleep lousily every night. It makes Sirius feel slightly guilty about making her sleep in the living-room, but she hasn't really complained yet. She seems to be the type to grin and bear everything, unlike James or Lily. James would have thrown a fuss; Lily would have demanded equality and better treatment.

With a sigh he gently pries away his godson, and takes him to his room. He changes the baby's diaper and then changes Harry from his baby-robes to a red onesie he finds in the cupboard. Sirius has no idea why Isobel had to buy onesies of so many different colours during her shopping spree last week.

When he sets Harry in his crib, the toddler wriggles slightly, as if disturbed, before turning sideways and snuggling into his stuffed dragon toy. Sirius smiles down at the baby, covering him up with his 'blankie', before dropping a kiss onto his forehead.

Harry is all he has left of James now.

Sirius takes out the pillows and duvet from the cupboard in Harry's room, before heading to the living room where a slightly restless Isobel sleeps. He manages to put the pillow under her head without disturbing her. He still remembers how she gave him boils the first time he woke her suddenly.

Once he's tucked her in, he hesitates over dropping a kiss on her forehead, which has a scar just like Harry's. He really shouldn't. She's technically a stranger. There's so much he doesn't know about her, though he has learnt a lot about her from living together for a week. For one, she's finicky about cleanliness, giving Harry two baths a day, if it's her day to give him a bath. And for some reason, she likes walking around the house barefoot.

Despite those little things, she still is a stranger.

More importantly, if James' and Lily's will is to be believed, she really is their daughter. Which means whatever little attraction he feels for her is _wrong_. Just because she looks eighteen doesn't mean she's fair game to him.

He pats her head awkwardly, brushing the hair of her bangs before dimming the lights wandlessly. That's a nifty trick that has always had any bird he's bedded swooning at his feet. Wandless magic has its perks.

He removes all his clothes and changes into a fresh pair of boxers in the communal bathroom, and when he goes back into his room, leaves the door slightly ajar. He does have a monitoring charm on Harry's room, but nevertheless, he leaves his door open, as he has, for the past week.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

A scream rips through the still night, and Sirius is up. He's out of his bed even before he can process what is happening. His Auror training seems to have kicked in.

"SIRIUS! NO!" Isobel yells, and he already has his wand out.

But it's only a false alarm; she seems to be having a nightmare. The duvet is tangled between her legs and she is on the floor. Her robes are open, and seem to be smothering her.

She's whimpering softly, and he doesn't know what to do. He turns on the lights and sits next to her on the floor. He tries to wake her up.

"Isobel, love, wake up."

He shakes her shoulder. Her skin is clammy, and her face looks deathly pale. Is this what she goes through silently each night?

She finally comes to, but seems to have forgotten where she is.

"Siri? You're alive? I'm so s-sorry, I-I couldn't do anything," she says in a rush, throwing herself into his lap, bawling. He hugs her tightly and rocks her, trying to soothe her. He's glad that he has charmed Harry's room so that his godson gets a good night's sleep without hearing external noises every day.

He whispers sweet nothings into her ear, as he rocks her, rubbing circles into her back.

"Hush, love, it's all right. There's nothing wrong, see. Hush, don't cry."

She takes in a shuddering breath and stops crying, and says in a thick voice, "Merlin, what a nasty nightmare."

"Isobel?" he asks, uncertainly.

She moves off his lap and sits on the floor, rubbing her eyes.

"I want water."

He conjures a goblet of water and gives it to her. She gulps it down greedily.

"I'm sorry I woke you up. I won't do it again," she says, looking sick.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Does this happen every night?" he asks, feeling his temper rise.

She looks away, refusing to meet his glare.

"My affinity is ward magic. I can sense those privacy wards you usually erect each night," he bites out.

"I said I'm sorry, right? Now bugger off."

She tries shoving him, but is so pathetically weak that he doesn't budge.

He takes in deep breaths, trying to count backward from ten. That's the method Remus taught him a few years back. When his temper is back in control, he speaks.

"Have you thought of using a Dreamless Sleep Potion?"

"I-er-no. No."

"We're buying a stock of that first thing tomorrow morning. Or rather, today. And from now on if you erect wards, I'm going to dismantle them."

She scowls at him. He's glad to note that there's some colour in her cheeks now.

"You can't tell me what to do. You have _no_ authority over me."

"You've done such an awful job of looking after yourself that from now on, you're under my care," he says, wondering what his mother would say if she heard him say those words. She'd be forced to acknowledge the fact that he is indeed responsible.

"Bugger off."

"Definitely. Right after you change out of those robes."

She throws another scowl at him, before stumbling and getting up. He starts folding the duvet and fluffing the pillows while she's gone. She comes out of the bathroom some ten minutes later, dressed in a bright orange t-shirt and pyjama pants.

"Are you trying to blind me?" he asks, incredulously. It's apparent that her fashion sense is officially rotten.

"I'm sorry, was what I was wearing supposed to _please_ you?" she asks, her tone acerbic. Ouch.

"You're going to sit down and tell me how long you've been having these nightmares," he says, gesturing to the spot next to him on the sofa.

She sits down, but doesn't say anything. He waits.

He's about to ask her again, when she speaks. "Almost every night."

"What are they about?"

She shakes her head and leans back into the sofa. He studies her reactions and the way her face changes as she considers what to tell.

"It's usually about the final battle..." she trails off.

"But tonight it wasn't?" he prompts gently.

Her head snaps to the left to face him, and she stares at him with her wide green eyes.

"How did you know?"

"You called out my name, love."

"Oh," she says, her eyebrows furrowing completely. It's like she's talking to herself internally.

He lets her be.

He's almost about to ask her if she saw him 'dying', when she speaks again.

"I wish you'd wear a shirt. It's very distracting."

He grins at her slightly flushed face. He pushes his questions aside for the time being. He likes how she reacts to seeing him shirtless. It's so much fun.

He winks at her. Her face turns even redder, if that's possible.

She pouts and takes her wand from the floor. She summons his Beatles t-shirt that she was wearing the other day and thrusts it at him. Reluctantly, he puts it on.

"Sirius?"

"Yes, love?"

"Would you mind terribly if I used your bed tonight?" she asks, her eyes wide. They're such a pretty shade of green. It sort of turns his thoughts into static.

They're slightly greener than Lily's eyes. Lily's were a forest green. Hers is more of a jaded green, the same as Harry's.

"Why not?" he replies, almost entranced.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

When he wakes up, it's to the pleasant smell of apples and coffee. The smell of coffee is from the kitchen. The smell of apples seems to be coming from the pillow.

"Mornin'," comes a greeting when he enters the kitchen. Isobel grins at him, as she tries to feed Harry. Surprisingly, Harry opens his mouth whenever she brings the 'rocket' next to his mouth.

"There's a pot of coffee on the counter, if you want some. And I thought we'd have omelettes for breakfast. I could make you cheese omelettes, if you'd like that," she says cheerfully.

Merlin, if this is what he could wake up to everyday, he doesn't mind sleeping on the couch indefinitely.

"Didn't the alarm ring?"

"No. I turned it off after I took your bed. I woke up because I guess Harry was pulling on our bond, or something? Anyways, at around seven, I woke up and just had this feeling that Harry wanted something. But he didn't cry, you know? He was there staring at the door, like he wanted me to come in. Merlin, I'm rambling, aren't I? I guess it's the coffee. That's why Mione never let me have more than two mugs."

Sirius feels an amused smile form on his face as the girl keeps talking.

"How many did you have?"

"Five," she says, almost petulantly, before turning to face Harry to coo at him. Harry giggles.

Sirius drops a kiss on Harry's head before going to the counter.

When he sits down at the table with a mug of coffee in his hand, Isobel starts speaking again.

"By the way, I think that that Kremshaw book is wrong. I'm pretty sure that female's taken a bribe from Magikquo to promote their brand. I mean, look. Harry has six teeth. He doesn't need this semisolid muck anymore. I think we need to introduce him to proper food, like vegetables. I was thinking we can start with steamed carrots made into small pieces. That should be easy for his baby teeth, won't it Harry?" she ends her long monologue by making faces at Harry who tries to pull her hair.

There's one more thing Sirius now knows about Isobel - that she gets too keyed after mugs of coffee.

"Listen, we have to visit Gringotts today and get a copy of James' and Lily's last wishes about what they wanted at their funeral. We can probably inspect the vaults another day."

She looks up, her lips pulled into a taut line and nods. "Yeah, we can do that another day."

She keeps looking at him, that same undecipherable emotion in her eyes. At long last, she says, "Why don't you go have a shower. I'll give Harry a bath in the sink."

Harry looks up when she says his name, and Isobel kisses him on the nose. She has never looked more like Lily than she has in that moment.

She looks fucking beautiful.

He shakes his head, feeling more confused than ever. His best friend, someone almost his brother, just died. Shouldn't he be grieving more? He knows he has a tendency to drink his problems away, and yet, since Halloween, he's only been pissed once.

It's when he's inside the shower that he realises why the pillow smelt like apples. Apparently Isobel's bought a shampoo for herself, though it's the same brand that he uses.

Sirius lets out an amused sigh and turns on the shower.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Sirius is busy eating his omelette while trying to entertain Harry when there's an impatient tapping on the window. After picking Harry up from the table and placing him on the floor, he goes over to the window to let the snow-white owlet in.

He gently unties the roll of parchment from its thin leg and unrolls it. Should he read it? Would it be a violation of Isobel's privacy?

"Ah, perfect! Hedwig's here! Just open the parchment and see if it's from Remus, okay? If it is, then it means she's delivered her trial letter properly and now has come back home safely. Give her some owl treats and a bowl water, yes? She's such a good girl."

Sirius turns around to give the woman his most sardonic glare. She's apparently still in a caffeine induced rush. He decides to buy decaffeinated coffee powder from now on.

Hedwig hoots, probably in indignation that she was tested.

But Sirius doesn't pay any attention to it. The witch looks bloody adorable, standing there with her hair all wet and dripping. She probably shouldn't have worn a white shirt, especially one that looks a lot like his. It cooks up certain imagery in his head that he'd rather not have of James' daughter.

For example, how would she look in just that shirt, without the jeans she is wearing underneath?

"Is that my shirt?"

She stops wiping her hair with a towel and looks at him with her eyes wide. A blush creeps up her face steadily, and Sirius can't look away. It's not normal, the way he feels around her.

"Yeah, I needed a shirt, but I hadn't bought any. And when I went into Diagon last week in a t-shirt and these jeans, some old hag glared at me. So a shirt might look more formal, but I don't have any. I'll buy one once I get into my vaults today, okay? And by the way, I spent 160 Galleons, 10 Sickles and 4 Knuts yesterday. I'll reimburse you for that. And for all that you've spent the last week on me. I've kept a record of all our expenses. And the grocery bills - "

Sirius finally interrupts, his amusement having run its course, "Breathe, love. Reimburse me whenever you want to, and if you don't want to reimburse me, I'd be fine with that too. Just do whatever you think is fine."

As he says it, he realises that he already trusts her with things like money and wealth. She isn't a gold-digger like some of the girls he dated back in Hogwarts.

She takes a deep breath before grinning at him. He's about to grin back at her, when something nips his finger.

The witch laughs.

"Looks like Hedwig wants her treat now, Siri. She hates waiting. The treats are under the kitchen sink," Isobel says, as she walks towards Harry.

Something inside him clenches at the way she calls him Siri, like she's known him for years. And in her defence, she has, indeed. Till now, there were only three people who called him with such familiarity, of which two are dead.

Hedwig hoots again.

"Why can't you get me the treats? You're in the kitchen," he shouts out.

"I think you should be thanking me for making you omelettes and should probably let me eat mine in peace."

Sirius turns around and sticks his tongue out at her, as she stands next to the kitchen counter with Harry on her hip.

"Hey, Harry! Wanna see your Bella knock some manners into your dogfather?"

Harry giggles.

She flicks her wand so fast he almost doesn't see it. A pack of owl treats comes hurtling at his head like a Bludger, and he's forced to dive to the side.

Harry starts laughing delightedly as Bella just smirks at him.

Hedwig nips his finger once more, drawing blood.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

They're walking back from Gringotts, wary about who they might encounter. Or at least, he is. Isobel looks preoccupied with the letters she's holding in her hands.

"You alright?" he asks her, shifting Harry in his arms as they enter Florean Fortescue's.

He already cast an Unmemorable charm, a charm which makes them almost unnoticeable unless they want to be noticed, on the three of them before they entered Diagon Alley, but he anyway scans the area for any known Death Eaters before entering the shop.

He casts a glance at the female walking by his side, who doesn't seem to have heard him. He puts his hand on the small of her back and steers her gently to an empty table.

He can feel the bones of her vertebrae through the layers of clothes she's wearing. She's a little too thin.

He helps her out of her coat and she sits down absentmindedly, just to start reading those letters again.

What _is_ there in those letters?

Fortescue's son, Florean Jr., hurries over to them to ask for their order as he brings a high chair with him. And that reminds Sirius that they have to buy that for Harry. Making him sit on the dining table isn't a very safe thing to do.

Isobel finally looks up as though she has just noticed where she is. She looks at him questioningly.

"We'll have two hot chocolates with vanilla flavouring and mint topping," he says, as the confusion clears from her face.

"Do you also have ice-creams at this time of the year?" she asks, the twinkle in her eye too similar to James'.

"Of course, ma'am. We have ice-creams all year round. What flavour would you like?"

"A small scoop of vanilla, a small scoop of chocolate and a small scoop of strawberry should be fine, thanks."

"In which case make it one hot chocolate-" Sirius starts, but she interrupts.

"No, no. We'll be having two hot chocolates and three scoops of ice-cream."

Once Jr. leaves, Sirius turns to her with his eyebrows raised.

She grins at him, shoving the letters inside.

"I thought Harry should have his first ice-cream, hmm?" she says, leaning over to flatten Harry's hair as the baby bangs his fist on the tray of his high chair.

Ice-cream in the month of November.

He can almost see James nodding his head approvingly, just as Lily shakes his head disapprovingly. And if Isobel is being the James of this co-guardianship, should he be the Lily?

But screw that, he wants Harry pampered and spoilt. James and Lily must have known that he'd make a terrible parent. Why did they leave their son with him of all people?

"You never cease to amaze me, Potter," he says, as she smiles at him. The light from the window hits her just right, accentuating the slightly auburn highlights of her hair.

She's the most fascinating witch he's ever met.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

They've just stepped out of Fortescue's, with Florean Jr. falling all over her. It looks like someone's got a small crush, and Sirius doesn't like it.

He attributes his feelings of protectiveness to the fact that she's his best friend's daughter. There's nothing going on here. Really. He's just worried that Isobel let herself be 'remembered' by the boy.

What would James or Lily say?

Isobel, on the other hand, is way too busy congratulating Harry on liking chocolate better than strawberry, and she's smiling so broadly that he can't help but smile, even if his thoughts are on his dead best friend and his dead wife.

"I have to meet the undertaker now. Do you want to come with?"

"Merlin, no. I'll just go collect my robes when you do that."

Harry shifts in his arms, holding out his tiny pudgy arms for Isobel to carry him instead. She moves closer and takes Harry from him, and damn, he can smell her. She smells like apples and - is that lavender?

How can someone smell so innocent and enticing at the same time. Was this girl dosing his morning coffee with Amortentia?

Sirius holds back a groan as he remembers Sluggy's Sixth Year class. The one where Sluggy let them all take a whiff of Amortentia. He remembers exactly what he smelt back then. Apples, lavender and Quidditch polish.

And here is this walking and talking doll of perfection standing next to him, who has scored two on three on his Amortentia list.

He needs to talk to Remus as soon as possible.

They should probably go out for drinks. Tonight, preferably.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

When Sirius enters Madam Malkin's an hour later, he can't find Isobel.

Madam Malkin rushes forward to gush at him.

"Are you looking for that lady you came with the other day, Lord Black? She left not more than thirty minutes back. If she's wearing the Potter Wheel, is she Lady Potter? So it _is_ true that James and Lily Potter were killed? And is she the Isobel Potter Skeeter wrote about? I-"

Sirius cuts her off, knowing what a terrible gossip she is. But he has to be polite, seeing as she's the most efficient seamstress in London. He almost misses the days when Auriga used to shop for him in Paris.

"Madam Malkin, it's not my place or duty to introduce someone, especially a lady, to society, without her explicit approval. She will soon make her identity public, that's all I can tell you, for now."

Malkin drinks it up, and after telling her for the ninth time that he isn't interested in her winter collection of robes, he makes his way out.

He's about to make use of the tracking charm he'd placed on her boots the day after her run-in with Bellatrix, when he hears a tinkling laugh from somewhere down the street.

He looks in that direction and sees her holding a camera and taking pictures, and wait, is that Harry on a toy broom?

He hurries over to them, and is surprised when Isobel turns and takes a quick picture of him.

"That was so worth it, Siri. You looked horrified!" she exclaims, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"That's because no one ever takes a picture of me when I'm not posing," he growls playfully, as Harry zaps past his knees.

"I've seen your pictures back in my world, you always toss your head back like you've pulled a muscle in your neck," she says, smirking.

Sirius can't but help feel annoyed. After all, he'd spent an entire Saturday afternoon in Fourth Year, perfecting that pose.

"You just don't have the eye for appreciating works of fine art, Ms. Potter," he says, as Harry giggles and tries to fly towards Isobel's head.

"Harry, love, stop that, you'll only fall off," she says gently, as she lifts a protesting Harry off the broom. The broom hits Sirius on his shins rather painfully, and he winces.

"You got me the same thing as a present in my world. There was this half-torn picture I found in your room there. It was of me zooming on the toy broom, with my mother laughing in the background and chasing me about... And I think that's the last picture someone ever took of me as a child. I just thought Harry should have more pictures of himself, growing up, hmm?"

Is it just him, or are her eyes a bit too bright - bright from unshed tears?

"Come here, love," he says, as he moves towards her to give her a one-armed hug. He holds the toy broomstick with his other hand.

She buries her head into the crook of his neck and she doesn't seem to be crying, but she seems to need his hug. Harry looks a bit miserable too, so he puts his other arm around her as well, encasing Harry between the two of them.

They stand locked in an embrace in the middle of Diagon Alley for a long time, till Isobel drops the camera and nearly breaks it.

It's a subdued party that makes its way to Rickman Apothecaries and Breweries to buy Dreamless Sleep Potion.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Moony!" he exclaims, as his haggard looking friend steps out of the fireplace. The full moon is a couple of weeks away, but Remus looks worse for wear.

"What's the real reason for asking me to come over, Sirius? I know it's not just for pizza," he says, throwing a shrewd glance at Sirius as he sits down on the sofa.

Remus knows him all too well.

He wrings his hands and looks at the floor, not wanting to look at Remus when he asks what he wants to ask.

"The funeral's on the thirteenth and Isobel is the first born..." he trails off, not knowing how to finish what he wants to ask.

"And someone has to teach her the ritual for Grace?" he asks, gently. That's what prompts Sirius to look up.

Sirius nods his head.

"And you want me to teach her?"

"Umm..."

"Fine, humour me. Why can't you teach her?" He has a sly look in his eyes, and that's what Sirius had _not_ been wanting to encounter.

"Moony..."

"I'm just curious. Is this to forcefully make me a family member to her, or is it to ensure you can Bond with her someday?"

"Remus..."

"I'm not saying I won't do it. I just want you to explicitly tell it out. Because you seem to want to deny it."

"There's nothing to explicitly tell!" cries out Sirius, knowing he's trapped. How does he just come out and tell that he is sexually attracted to Isobel Potter?

"My nose never lies, Sirius."

"Fine, I'm attracted to her, alright? Sexually. And only sexually. You _know_ it would be a direct violation of the code for teaching the Ritual of Grace because my feelings are anything but familial. So will you just fucking teach the bint the ritual?" he bites out, clenching his fists tightly.

"Now, was that so hard to admit?" asks his friend, a slightly smug look on his face.

But Sirius ignores it, trying to tell himself that his feelings for Isobel are only sexual, nothing more. He is a self proclaimed commitment-phobe. His attraction to Isobel, not just physically but also emotionally, is because she's new around here. Once he gets used to her - maybe even beds her - he'll have scratched that itch off. But he can't do that to James' daughter; he can't let her be another notch on his bedpost. She deserves better. So what he'll do is -

His inner musings are cut off when he senses Isobel entering the building. Remus senses her arrival too, because his smug smile turns into an outright smirk. Remus! Smirking! It must all be Isobel's fault, corrupting his usually innocent and gentle friend.

"I'll tell her I'll be coming over for classes tomorrow," he says, still smirking.

Sirius doesn't get a chance to answer as the front door is thrown open and _she_ calls out, "I'm home with pizza! Hope you guys like Hawaiian!"

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

§

* * *

 **End note:**

Rickman Apothecaries and Breweries was opened in order to honour Alan Rickman, who immortalised Severus Snape on the screen. He'll be remembered, always.

* * *

 **Announcements:**

1) I'm borrowing this idea from MsRoseAlanaHorton - Readers who have reviewed each and every chapter are entitled to a spoiler, which can be redeemed every seven chapters.

Once I post the 7th chapter, if you've left seven reviews, you can ask me for a spoiler from chapter 8. Or, you can save up your spoiler and ask me later, when you feel like it. For a spoiler after chapter 14, you need to have reviewed chapters 8 to 14. That sound okay?

Guest reviewers can also participate by using a unique name and leaving behind an email id, if you want to.

People in the running, so far, are: paulaa90, Nataly SkyPot, Padfootette, Skendo, Elfin69 and Samantha.

2) A Google+ page for this story is in the works. How many people would be interested in checking it out?

3) I haven't replied to your reviews yet. I promise, I'll reply by Tuesday, at the latest. Until then, thank you so much for reviewing, favouriting and following. You make my heart soar. :)

* * *

 **Guest review replies:**

Firstly, thank you ALL for being lovely enough to leave a review. :) Would you like it if I left these replies on the public Google+ page I'm thinking of creating for Threads of Time? (Let me know, because I plan to come back a few months later and remove these replies and ANs, to create a seamless reading experience.)

Guest and Donia, thanks for reviewing. I'm a sucker for Sirius/fem!Harry stories too. ^_^

Avalon! Hi again! Haha, chill. I have two people in mind for Snape - Benedict Cumberbatch and John Mayer. I can't decide, though. I think I'm leaning towards Cumberbatch, at the moment. :)

Sasha: Sirius has blue-grey eyes. When he performs magic that draws energy from his soul, his eyes turn black - as in completely black - the cornea, the pupils, everything. Reason: 'The eyes are the window to the soul.' Hope that clears it up for you. :) Jonathan Rhys Meyers, hmmm...

Vera, what? When did I ever write that? :O

Tauriel: When I finally get the time to draw fanart, my first picture for this story is going to be titled Sirella. ;)

Samantha, I completely agree with you. *nods grimly*

Crystal: You're right. I meant to say Potters' Cottage in my earlier reply, not Manor. However, Potter Manor is not canon, it's fanon. It's never mentioned anywhere in the books or on Pottermore that the older Potters ever owned a place called Potter Manor. And also, thanks for reviewing. :)

* * *

 **AN:**

Reviews are love.

I'll try my best to update this story by March 13th, 2016.

Thank you for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:**

Just 4 days late. Whoaa, is this for real?

Skendo, you made my day. (: SelenaKat, you're my virtual bestie, so hiii. SilveryWind, you're the best. paulaa90, get well soon, ma chérie! *heart*

And onestepclosertomagic, I do not use Google translate (that much!) -_- xD Remind me, why are we friends?

* * *

§

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter? Not mine. Cover art? Not mine. The Linfred of Stinchcombe part is from Pottermore. The sigil part is mine.

 **Pairing:** Sirius/fem!Harry

 **Warnings:** I only read it over once. Grammatical errors and typos might abound. Tell me if you find any, yes?

* * *

THREADS OF TIME

* * *

Chapter 7

* * *

 ** _"Angry is just sad's bodyguard."_**

~ Liza Palmer ~

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella hates this, she fucking hates this.

Both she and Remus, have been working on the spell for the ritual of Grace for the past two days, but she still can't perfect it. Agreed, Charms has never been her strongest subject, but she has never struggled over a spell this much.

"The Patronus Charm is much harder. And if you were able to learn it when you were thirteen, you will be able to cast this as well. Let's take a break and get back to it?" suggests Remus, patiently as ever.

She groans and drops her head onto the open book in front of her. Sirius has gotten her all the books he can find about it from the Black library, but it's of no use. It's almost as if her wand is -

That's it! Bella thinks she has figured out the problem.

She sits up excitedly, her neck almost snapping at the speed at which she gets up, and sees how Remus is eyeing her sudden manic grin warily.

"I think I know why I can't perform the spell. It's my wand. I don't think its allegiance is to me."

Remus furrows his eyebrows as he thinks it over.

"But you should be having a problem with all your spells then, right? You should have a problem casting even an _Accio_."

Bella bites her lower lip as she thinks it over. It makes sense; after all, she doesn't know how she got the wand. And just because she physically has it doesn't mean she actually owns it.

So she summons the newspaper from the living room, and it comes flying in, landing sloppily on the table in front of them.

"I've been casting all the spells except this Grace one properly. I've had no trouble."

Their conversation devolves into silence, as they're both lost in their own thoughts. Bella thinks a trip to Ollivander's is warranted, but what if the phoenix feather wand chooses her? Then what will Harry do? He'll need that specific wand if he has to duel Voldemort, eventually.

"Do you know any cleaning spells?" asks Remus suddenly.

"The standard _Scrougify_ , _Evanesco_... That's about it."

"What about household spells? Like ones to bake potatoes and set a timer on the boiling?"

She stares at him, not knowing what he's getting at.

"Er, no?"

"Brilliant!" he exclaims, as he summons a glass from the kitchen. Bella still doesn't know what's going on. He fills the summoned glass using _Aguamenti_ , and then pushes the glass towards her.

"Heat the water in the glass with the standard heating spell. It's _Eauchaud_ ," he says, mimicking the wand movement for the spell.

It looks relatively simple. But Bella now knows what he's getting at.

"You think I have a problem only with spells I haven't learnt before?" she asks, and his smile answers her question.

She picks up her wand and utters the spell, hoping that Remus' hypothesis is right.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

It's half past eleven, and Sirius isn't home yet. Bella doesn't want to feel worried about it, but nevertheless, she is. It's more than three hours since Remus left for his shift; he works as a barman at a Muggle pub.

But where the hell is Sirius right now?

It feels so odd, waiting for someone to come back... It's something she's never done before, not counting the times when she, Ron and Mione used to stalk the Ministry. Is this what it feels like to have some form of a quasi family - to worry all the time?

Sighing, she goes to check on Harry, to see if he's sleeping. He looks disturbed, though, so she lifts him out of his crib and rocks him gently in her arms till he looks like a tiny raven haired angel, smiling gently.

When she makes her way back to the living room, it's past midnight, and there's still no sign of Sirius. She turns on the telly and sets it on mute. There's some Charlie Chaplin movie going on, but she isn't watching.

Why can't he have sent her a note? Has he gone to confront Pettigrew, who's in a Ministry holding cell?

Merlin, she hopes not. All her efforts of ensuring he wasn't unfairly put in Azkaban would be for naught, then.

What if he's hurt and can't Apparate back? What if some free Death Eater's got him? He could be de-

The front door is thrown open, and Sirius slumps in. Bella hurries over to check is he's all right, when she realises that all her worrying was completely useless.

The man is piss drunk.

She's tempted to slap him, but she doesn't. Instead, she gently leads him to the sofa and sits him down. There's no point in getting mad at him and yelling when he's sloshed. She'll save her reprimands for when he's sober.

She sits down next to him and he slumps sideways, his nose burrowing into her shoulder. He smells like cheap tequila. Is tequila his favourite drink or something?

"Do you want some water?" she asks him, wondering if he's coherent enough to understand.

His face goes up and down and against her shoulder, and she assumes that to be a yes. She ignores how the action sends tingles of warmth through her nervous system.

He's _drunk_ and feeling these things is _wrong_. It's like she's taking advantage of him.

She dislodges him from her and goes into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Doing things manually has its charm, especially when one is a witch. It's nice to not be completely reliant on a piece of wood.

When she enters the living room again, she's slightly disconcerted by how Sirius seems to be talking to himself. He's whispering 'sorry' continuously in a broken voice, choking on a sob now and then.

It's scary. It's bloody scary.

Bella sets the glass on the centre table and pushes Sirius aside carefully, so that she can sit next to him.

What had he done last night for her? He had pulled her onto his lap and calmed her down. At least, that's what she thinks he did.

Sirius' hair falls below his chin, and she has a vague memory of her Remus saying that Sirius' hair length was an indication of how depressed he felt. It looks like it's true in this thread as well.

"Hey, now. Why are you sorry?" she asks him, an arm around his shoulders. He's shaking.

"Ish aall me fault. I told Prongsh to use Peter. It'sh my fault Jamesh an' Lillly are dead," he says, his speech heavily slurred.

Bella takes his chin with her other hand and shakes his face a little. His eyes are firmly closed shut, and he keeps repeating sorry.

He wasn't this way yesterday. Why was he feeling so goddamn guilty today?

"Siri? Sirius? Open your eyes. Look at me when I tell you this."

He doesn't look like he wants to open his eyes, but her continuous shaking of his face forces him to do so. His eyes are bloodshot, but she bores into his blue-grey eyes with her green ones.

"It. Is. Not. Your. Fault. Got it? It's not your fault. Peter Pettigrew is a coward, and it's his fault. Not yours. Not now, not ever. You were a good friend, you still are. You are a good person. It's _not_ your fault.

He stares at her with a lost expression, and she thinks what she said has sunk in, when he apologises to her. "I'm shorry I killed your parentsh. All my fault."

She pulls his chin roughly towards her face, so that she's glaring right into his face.

"IT'S. NOT. YOUR. FAULT."

He doesn't seem to have heard her, but she doesn't mind telling him that for as long as he needs to hear it. So she lets him rant, rave, sob and murmur against the shoulder of her tee.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Something tiny and warm punches her in the face, and Bella opens one eye to see that it's Harry, almost glaring at her. Can babies even glare?

She'd been having her favourite childhood nightmare, a green flash of light accompanied by a high laugh, only that this time it had more visuals - her mother's pale face, red hair spread out like flames.

"Harry? How did you get out of your crib?" she asks, a little stupidly, knowing that he can't actually understand. But the inquisitive glance he gives her makes her feel that she's probably not all that stupid for just talking _to_ him.

It's then that she notices he's been crying. There are tear tracks on his face. So she sits up completely, dislodging Sirius' elbow, only then realising that the two of them must have fallen asleep on the sofa, sitting, once again.

How wonderful.

"You all right, love?" she asks picking Harry up and placing him on her thighs. She ignores that arm that Sirius has around her waist.

She kisses the baby on each of his cheeks, before humming the only lullaby she knows. It's one that dear old Luna had taught her, and it's about pixies who steal socks at night.

Harry's eyes slowly droop shut, but she continues rocking him. Has he been having nightmares? She isn't sure if she had nightmares when she was one.

"You croak like a frog," says a voice quietly to her right, and she nearly has a heart attack. She reflexively Accios her wand to her right hand wandlessly.

"Don't give me boils once again," continues the sardonic voice, and she turns to glare at him.

"Ssh, Harry's sleeping," she whispers, and Sirius regards her coolly with his one open eye.

She gets up to put Harry back in his room, deciding to come back and yell at Sirius. He seems to be coherent enough, now, even though it's only half four. How is it he doesn't even have a hangover? It's so bloody unfair!

When she steps into Harry's room, she stops and stares. _What!_

The crib has disappeared, and there's only a mattress on the floor. So that explains how Harry got out of bed. But accidental magic so soon? Is it an effect of the Horcrux?

"Sirius?" she calls out, and she hears him groaning and grumbling as he shuffles towards her.

"What?" he whispers, when he sees Harry snuggled in her arms. She stands aside and lets him look inside.

"Bloody hell!"

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

" _Muffliato_."

"What was that?" asks Sirius, looking at her suspiciously.

"I'm going to yell at you. And I don't want to wake Harry up."

"Ha, I'm way ahead of you. I've charmed his room such that no one from outside can bother him," he says, smiling smugly.

"So wait, if there's a fire and I want to call out to him, he won't be able to hear me?"

"Please, what do you take me for? There are fireproofing wards around the building. And anyway, I doubt he'll understand you."

They're both glaring at each other over the dining table. It looks like the temporary truce that lasted for the past few days has disappeared, just like Harry's crib.

Their conversation has devolved into childish banter.

"Are you going to yell at me anytime soon? I have places to be," he says, tossing his hair back.

Bella clenches her jaw and places her wand on the table, because she's just so frustrated, and she doesn't trust her spell-happy mouth.

Is acting like a jerk a defence mechanism for him?

It strikes her then that it _must_ be. After all, he's lost so much more than her. He's lost half his real family at one go. And yes, she's lost everyone she knows, but her loss feels more distant; his seems more real.

She has to be the adult here. He is but an overgrown child. She won't let him get to her. She resolves to be nice to him.

"Start yelling. I'm waiting."

"I... I'm not going to yell. I just have something to ask you. The next time you go out somewhere, even if it's to get bladdered, please leave me a note saying where you're going and when you'll be back?"

He stares at her with his mouth opening a little, before closing it shut resolutely.

"Okay," he croaks, his eyes guarded. Bella has no idea what's going on in his head.

The silence stretches, and when it becomes almost unbearable, she speaks.

"So Remus and I figured out why I can't perform the spell - "

"Remus told me when I bumped into him," he interrupts.

"You bumped into Remus? Where? At the pub?"

"When he was leaving the flat, actually - "

This time it's Bella who interrupts.

"Hold on. You came _all_ the way here and didn't fucking think of telling me you wanted a night out? H-"

"I thought you weren't going to yell at me," he says, holding his chin aloft and peering down at her through lidded eyes.

She takes in a deep breath, trying to stop herself from continuing her shrieking.

"I'm going to bed now. In your room. You can sleep on the sofa," she says, rising from the table and making her way to the door. Sirius catches her arm as she passes and pulls her back.

"No, you aren't."

"But I want a decent bed and - "

" _No_. You aren't going to _sleep_ now. I have an idea for your spell problem, and we need to do this right away."

"If you're suggesting Ollivander's, firstly, it's too late - or early, depending on how you see it, and secondly, as I told Remus, _no._ The wand that'll most likely claim me needs to go to Harry."

"Moony told me. Now will you just listen?"

There's this gritty determination in his eyes, and Bella finds herself sitting back at the dining table, her sleep and annoyance long forgotten. He shares with her his plan, and though she knows he's not telling her everything, she goes with it.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"I'm still not comfortable with having left Kreacher with Harry," Bella whispers as she clutches Sirius' arm. They're inside Lestrange Manor, and they need to be careful so as to not wake the house-elves.

Sirius had entered the estate as Padfoot, and had worked from the inside to allow himself master access to the wards. He'd then led her into the estate, ensuring that they were touching each other, so that the wards recognised Bella as an extension of Sirius, as opposed to recognising her as a separate entity.

She knows this because Sirius had taken the time to haughtily explain his modus operandi as they made their way from the outer wall, past the orchards, to the set of buildings.

"What other choice did we have? It's not like your mystical Godmother was around to help, was she?" Sirius asks, his voice too close to her under the Invisibility Cloak.

The cloak was Bella's idea. That was pretty much her only contribution to the 'plan'.

"May be McGonagall. Or Dumbledore. I dunno. But definitely not Kreacher," she says, being as emphatic as possible as she whispers.

"You think McG will approve of us breaking and entering into a house full of Condemned and Dark objects? And also, you can let go of my arm, now. We're through the wards."

She glares at him in the darkness and lets go. He could have told her to let go five minutes back, but he hadn't. He's such a prick.

"Right, so where are we going?"

"The West wing. I remember Andy telling me that that's where Bella stored the wands of the people she defeated in duels."

"Will you stop calling her Bella? I'm Bella. Call her Bellatrix!" she whisper-yells at him, thoroughly annoyed at how he's using her name to refer to that bitch.

"Isobel, shush. There's no point in having Bella _trix's_ rabid house-elves on us."

So Bella focuses on studying the silverware and antiques displayed proudly in glass cabinets, trying to see if Hufflepuff's cup is there. That would be a complete bonus. But as usual, luck isn't on her side. The cup must be in the Lestrange vault, then.

Ten minutes later, they're standing in a room off the library, where there is a rack with five shelves. And each shelf seems to have around fifteen boxes, going by the light from her wand.

"Each of these boxes has a wand?" Bella asks, keeping her voice low, despite the _Muffliato_ charm she's cast.

"Bellatrix collects trophies of her victims. People she's killed, tortured or defeated. She takes their wands as a souvenir."

Bella feels sick. And she is so glad that that psychopath will soon be in Azkaban. She deserves to be Kissed by the dementors. May be Augusta Longbottom can rally enough people on the Wizengamot to get Bellatrix Kissed?

"How many of these are the wands of people she's murdered?" she asks quietly.

"No idea, love, but remember she's killed way more Muggles than wizards." The last part is said with revulsion.

Bella turns to look him in the eye, to see that he's staring at her. She can't read his expression.

"So what next?" she asks him. Long silences at half five in the morning, especially in Lestrange Manor, feel a little eerie.

"What wand did you have earlier?"

"First a holly and phoenix feather one. Later, a hawthorn one. And at last, a wand made of elder." She doesn't want to tell him that she owns - no, _owned -_ THE Elder Wand. She'll probably tell him that if he proves himself trustworthy. Or maybe she won't tell him, ever. She doesn't know.

"Elder wands bring bad luck," he mutters quietly, and Bella raises her wand to shine the light right into his eyes. He flinches.

"I'm holding one."

He gives her a wry smile. "I know."

It's an hour later, and the sky outside is lightening. And Bella hasn't felt an affinity towards any particular wand, though she's able to cast some of the new spells that Sirius just taught her.

"You know what would be helpful?" she says, as she puts a flexible mahogany wand back inside. "A bloody index of what box has what wand."

A wand clatters to the floor, and she turns to her right to see that Sirius has dropped the wand he was putting back into its box. They're both sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"You're a genius!"

Bella narrows her eyes at him, but he has already sprung up, and is searching for something in the chest of draws.

"Fuck this," he says, whipping his wand out of his wand holster. Bella once again takes a moment to admire the invisible holster. Now where can she get one like that?

"Accio Bellatrix's wand catalogue."

A rattling sound comes to Bella's left and she nearly jumps her skin.

"Open the cupboard," he says, and when she does, a thick black book comes flying out.

"What's that?"

"A list of all the wands she's collected. I should have thought of it earlier. Only Bellatrix is insane enough to take pride in this."

"Take pride?" Bella asks, a little uncertainly.

"Bellatrix wanted her affinity to be wandlore, when she was younger. It makes sense that she's categorised it."

Bella has no idea how to respond to that, so she says nothing.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"That catalogue... It can be used as evidence against her, right?" Bella asks, as she makes scrambled eggs.

Sirius is right behind her, surprisingly helping her with breakfast, though it's her day today. He's making tea, because for some reason, all the coffee powder has disappeared over the past couple of days.

"Yes, it can, when the official Auror investigation happens, I'll ensure the book is found."

"When are you going back to work?"

"Moody gave me the month off, though I applied only for fifteen days."

Bella drops the spatula and turns to look at him.

"You thought you'd be okay to get back to work just two days after the funeral? Really?" she asks him incredulously.

He turns his face away, and seems to be too interested in the Earl Grey leaves.

"It's okay to not be okay," she says gently, remembering what her Sirius had told her after the Triwizard Tournament.

"I'm fine," he bites out, and she reaches out to him to hesitantly touch his arm.

"It's not your fault. Quit beating yourself up about it. It was meant to happen. And when some things are meant to happen, they will happen. There's nothing you could have done. If not Peter, Voldemort would have found a different way to hunt down Harry."

"He was hunting down Harry?" Sirius' eyes snap up to hers, and she realises that he doesn't know about the prophecy.

"I'm not sure if Voldemort's reasons are the same here, but it was prophesised in my thread that someone born as the seventh month dies is the one who'll defeat the Dark Lord. I think there's a prophecy here too."

"Do you think Dumbledore knows about it?" he asks, anger slowly creeping into his eyes.

"Why else did you think my mum and dad went into hiding?"

"And I let them down," he says softly. His knuckles are turning white from gripping the spoon tightly.

She moves closer to him and says, "I don't think you let them down, but there's nothing I can do to make you change your mind. You'll only be letting them down if you aren't there for Harry.

"You come home drunk now, it doesn't matter. But what about when Harry gets older? He'll notice. And he'll wonder why you do it, and he'll think that maybe it's his being around that depresses you so."

"Harry is the most important thing to me right now," he says fiercely, and she raises her hand to run her thumb on his cheekbone.

"Then start acting like it."

His eyes flutter shut and his long eyelashes touch his high cheekbones. It's so unfair that long eyelashes and high cheekbones are wasted on a guy, when a girl would appreciate those features on herself much more.

When he opens his eyes, they're more blue, than grey and his pupils are dilated. Bella thinks she can recognise the emotion. It's desire.

And suddenly she realises how small the room is, and how close they are to one another. She drops her hand from his face.

She racks her brain to come up with something that'll break this weird tension between them.

"Umm, want to help me practice the Grace spell after breakfast gets over?" she asks, and Sirius steps away as if she'd just slapped him.

"I-I don't want to spend time with you," he says, his eyes wild, before he rushes out of the kitchen.

Bella squashes down that tiny prick of hurt as she hears his door slam shut.

It's only when the smell gets stronger that she realises that she's burnt the eggs. But it doesn't matter, 'cause she doesn't feel all that hungry anymore.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella is just finishing sealing the envelope when she hears the bedroom door open. Sirius comes to stand behind her, but she ignores his presence. He's a fecking dickwad.

"Hey," he says, but she ignores him.

On the front of the envelope, she proceeds to write the sender's name with her Bic Cristal. She waits for the inevitable explosion.

"Why are you sending a letter to Snivellus!" Sirius screeches, and Bella turns around wearily in her chair, keeping her hand on the envelope. She doesn't want Sirius burning the letter on an impulse; it was a hard letter to write.

"It's an invitation to the funeral."

"I won't have him there at James' funeral, laughing as James' coffin is lowered into the ground!"

"But it's not just James' funeral, is it? It's also Lily's. And Snape and my mum were best friends, before your constant bullying ruined that. So shut up and get lost."

"What kind of a daughter are you, inviting a Death Eater to your parents' funeral?" he sneers.

"The kind of daughter who follows her mother's last wishes. She explicitly asked for this in the letters she left me. And I'm not denying her or Snape. He deserves the closure," she says, standing.

"He called your mother a Mudblood!" he exclaims, but all Bella can think of is Snape asking her to look him in the eye one last time.

 _"Look me in the eye, Potter," he chokes out, as the silvery liquid stops flowing out_ _of his orifices._

 _"Lily," he breathes, as Bella looks into his stone black eyes, before his eyes glaze over, the light of life dying out._

"You don't know the half of it. He's not a bad person. I'm not saying he's good. But he's not bad either," she says, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"He was up to his eyeballs trying to merge Condemned and Dark Magic. He's the definition of evil."

"And you and my father calling him 'Snivellus' and hanging him upside down for everyone to see his boxers was not evil in the least, was it?" she yells, even as she hears Harry beginning to bawl.

"He called your mother a Mu-"

"Don't you dare lie to me. That happened _after_ you and my father did this. I've seen the whole thing in Snape's memories. You and my father were nothing but pathetic bullies, thinking you owned the ground you walked on. You were despicable, goading Snape like that."

"Who do you think -"

"Don't try to feed me bullshit, Black," she interrupts, walking to the living room, where Hedwig is perched. She shrinks the envelope and ties it to her leg, before opening the window. Hedwig nips her finger affectionately, and hoots angrily at Sirius, before flying out.

She hears Sirius trying to placate Harry in his room, so she goes to Sirius' room instead, banging the door shut. She locks the door and throws herself onto the bed, preparing herself for a good crying session.

However, she's too angry, and she ends up playing with her new wand, throwing it up and catching it again. It's ten inches long, is made of holly and has a unicorn hair core. Funnily, it's a perfect mix of the two wands that she'd owned in her original thread.

" _Ignis Gratia_ ," she whispers, watching the white spark blossom from the tip of her wand, before shaking her hand to make it disappear. The spell feels a lot like the Patronus charm,, and gives the same warmth. It feels pure and sacred, almost holy.

She thinks of the proud smile that Remus had given her when she finally managed to produce the Fire of Grace earlier this afternoon. He is such a lovely human being; why can't Sirius aspire to be more like his werewolf friend?

She starts feeling drowsy, as the light outside starts fading. In her last moments of consciousness, she notices a floor length mirror standing in the corner.

 _Weird_. How come she's never seen it before?

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

When she finally wakes up, heart pounding, it's to find a pair of arms wrapped around her and she knows she's safe. She's not on the run; she's at _home_.

"Thanks," she says, though her voice sounds hoarse, like she's been screaming. She probably has.

"It's okay," he mutters, and Bella remembers their less than pleasant day, though breaking into Lestrange Manor, all said and done, was fun.

She doesn't move her face away from his shoulder, even as she realises she's sitting on his lap, much like the other day. She craves the warmth, the human touch.

"What time is it?" she asks, as she tries not to move.

"5:45. In the morning."

"Hmmm," she says, as she takes a deep breath. Sirius smells like oranges and soap, and it's addictive.

"How's Harry?" she asks, as the silence stretches on. She still feels sleepy.

"He didn't go to sleep all that easily. I think he likes you putting him to bed."

"Sorry," she says, finally moving back a little to look him in the face.

"For what?" he asks, peering at her in the semi-darkness. It looks like the lights are on outside.

"For leaving you to deal with Harry."

"That's alright, love."

Does that mean everything is okay between the two of them, seeing as he called her 'love'?

It's then that she notices that his hair is slightly wet, and that he's wearing a fancy white dress shirt.

"You had a bath?" she asks, as his eyes linger on her face.

"You need to have one too. We'll have to leave by seven and get the papers signed."

"What papers?"

"The death certificate and some other documents."

"Oh," she says, not knowing what else to say. The way his voice broke slightly when he said 'death certificate' makes her want to hug him tightly and never let go.

So she does half of that; she hugs him tightly.

His arms around her tighten imperceptibly, just as a bell starts chiming.

"What on Earth?" she asks.

"That's an alarm I added to Harry's room. To let us know when he's awake," he says, his arms letting her go.

Bella moves away from Sirius slowly, not wanting to lose the warmth.

"Where's that mirror that was here yesterday?" she asks, noticing that the mirror had disappeared.

" _Occulus Revelio._ There, you can see it now."

"Wandless magic? Wow," she says, remembering how Voldemort himself had struggled with wandless magic.

"I know, right?" he asks, his voice devoid of its characteristic smugness.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella's standing in front of the floor length in Sirius' room, running a critical eye over the dress. She has no idea why she bought it, seeing as she really doesn't like it. But then, she doesn't have to _like_ the funeral clothes; it's better that she dislikes them.

There's a knock on the door as she turns sideways to inspect the keyhole back. She's disillusioned her bra straps, but she isn't sure if the spell will last for the next few hours.

"I have your robes," comes Sirius' voice, so she sighs and waves her wand to open the door.

He walks up right behind her, and their gazes meet in the mirror. It's reminiscent of the moment they shared at Madam Malkin's.

He keeps staring at her and that forces Bella to ask him her what's been bothering her the most.

"Does it look that bad?"

"No," he says, after looking her over once in the mirror, as if he hasn't done that already. "Beautiful, in fact."

Bella sees her own face turn pink in the mirror,

He hold out the white robes and she slips her arms in, as he helps it over her shoulder. On the white fabric, over her left breast, there's a potter's wheel stitched in dark green silk.

"Is that the Potter family sigil?" she asks, knowing that there's a larger one stitched onto the back of her robes.

"Do you know how it came to be a potter's wheel?"

"Umm, no?" she says, slightly amused. There was a story behind her family sigil?

"In the twelfth century, there was a man named Linfred who lived in the village of Stinchcombe in Gloucestershire. He was thought to be eccentric and absent minded, and was always pottering around, making new potions, growing new ingredients and conducting experiments. He was nicknamed the Potterer by the inhabitants of the village. Over time, he changed his surname to Potter and changed his family sigil to a potter's wheel from that of a wolf.

"So that's how your family sigil turned out to be a potter's wheel."

His breath is so close to her cheek, and she thinks he's going to kiss her cheek. And she wouldn't mind it, in the least. There's something about him which makes her want to just melt.

"Isobel?"

"Yeah," she says, turning to look at him, because his voice sounds vulnerable. And, she wants to see his eyes, not in the mirror, but for real.

"I noticed only yesterday that your ears are pierced. And no Dark lady goes outside with pierced ears without earrings."

"Oh," she says, trying to not notice how close he is to her. She wants to push his hair back from his face and wants to run her fingers down his strong jaw. But she doesn't do any of that.

"I had Kreacher get you these from my mother's jewellery collection. I'm sure she won't notice."

Bella looks down to see that it's the a pair of tiny pearl earrings, with a lining made of goblin gold.

"They're too much," she says, a little hollowly. Because damn, they're pretty.

"They're yours now."

She turns around to face the mirror and puts them on, one after the other, all the while not breaking eye contact with Sirius.

"Beautiful indeed," he murmurs, moving closer, his hand on her shoulder, before he lets go and asks, "Coming?"

Bella nods her head and follows him out, to see Harry on his highchair, playing with a rubber Snitch.

She drops a kiss on his head and picks him up, as Sirius comes up next to her, her wand holster in his hand. He ties it around her arm for her, and Bella tries not to notice how his fingers trail down her arm when he's done.

Soon, they're standing outside the building, breathing in the chilly London air.

"You ready?" he asks, looking into her eyes.

"You all right?" she asks in response, knowing that the answer to both their questions is 'no'. She's scared that she'll mess up the spell; she feels just the way she did before her DADA OWL practicals.

She holds Harry tightly with her left arm as she grips Sirius' hand in her right hand - her hand fits perfectly into his - and the last thing she notices before she feels like they're sucked into a black pipe is how mesmerising Sirius' eyes are.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

§

* * *

 **AN:**

Yup, Sirius is immune to hangovers, like me. (I'm a lucky bitch.)

I made a typo in the previous chapter's AN. If you've reviewed from chapters 1 to 7, you get a preview or a spoiler. If you review from 8 to 14, you get another one, and so on. So, basically, for every 7 reviews (though I might change it to 10), you get either a spoiler or a preview.

Vous pouvez choisir. :)

As of now, anyone who's left at least 4 reviews gets a preview. (I'm a nice person.) I'll PM you if you're in the running.

Milly, thanks for reading, despite finding it a little weird. (:

* * *

If I haven't already replied to your review, I'll do it by Monday, at the latest.

Thanks for reading, reviewing, favouriting, following and adding this story to 12 communities. *Awestruck*

I'll do my best to update by March 31st, 2016.

I'm a review whore, so please do leave one behind!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter? Not mine. Cover art? Not mine. Horizont Alley? Not mine. (Can't remember whose it is.)

 **Pairing:** Sirius/fem!Harry

 **Warnings:** I don't have a beta reader. Please bear that in mind.

 **Dedication:** This chapter is for noneofmyshipssail, for being an awesome friend. Thank you. :)

* * *

§

* * *

THREADS OF TIME

* * *

 _Chapter 8_

* * *

 ** _"When you meet someone for the first time, that's not the whole book. That's just the first page."_**

~ Brody Armstrong ~

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Despite the chill in the air, it's a bright day. There are springtime flowers blooming in the cemetery, and Bella suspects that there's magic at play.

There are only a few people at the funeral; it's a private ceremony, and Sirius and Dumbledore together have placed wards on the premises, so that only those invited can even enter.

Sirius has taken special care to ensure that unregistered Animagi can't just waltz in.

Dumbledore is conducting the ceremony, and Bella takes that as a chance to subtly study the people who have come. Augusta Longbottom is there, with a white, veiled hat. She's studiously staring ahead, her expression blank.

McGonagall is standing by Hagrid, weeping quietly into a handkerchief. It makes Bella wonder if her parents were truly that treasured, and if anyone would have cried for her the same way if there had been anyone left behind to grieve for her.

It looks like most of the original Order is present, at least, it's living members. She guesses that the tall red-haired man is one of the Prewett twins. But didn't they die together much before the end of the war?

Bella doesn't remember Ron or Ginny ever telling her that one of their uncles was married. And yet, she can see a golden band glinting on his hand, just as there's one on the hand of the blonde he's supporting. She's crying as well.

There are a few others, but their faces all seem to blur into one. They're all dressed in white, and that's all she notices.

Dumbledore stops his Latin chanting and looks directly at her. This is it. This is the moment that she's been stressing about for the past few days. Sirius pushes her forward and all of a sudden, she finds that she can't breathe. The air around her feels thick.

Someone else pushes her further - probably Remus - and she's now close to Dumbledore, who smiles at her grimly.

Bella can't remember the spell.

She spies a dark-haired man standing at the boundary, in the shadow of the ash trees, his sallow features hidden by his hair. He's staring at his feet intently.

A small hand presses itself into her cold, limp left hand, warming it over. Bella looks to her left to see a pixie like woman with platinum blonde hair whose face exudes calmness and peace.

"Breathe. I'm with you," she whispers, and it's like Bella is shrugging off a cloak. Bella now stands taller and firmer and she doesn't feel so alone or scared anymore.

The woman doesn't remove her hand even as Bella casts the spell, the white flame growing from the tip of her wand. It grows bigger and brighter and surrounds the opens coffins, cocooning them. The flame grows hotter and stronger.

Dumbledore resumes his chanting, this time in English.

 _"Let it be known that the Living pray for the Departeds' journey._

 _The plea of Grace has duly been invoked._

 _May Morrigain protect her beloved_

 _And may Merlin defend his treasured._

 _May they show cause for justice to His circle,_

 _And bless these now gone souls with Grace._

 _Death is the last enemy that shall be conquered;_

 _And his Grace, the last gift that shall be bestowed."_

A tear rolls down Bella's cheek of its own volition. Though she's standing here, physically, her thoughts are with her parents. She thinks of her real mother's unconditional love and her real father's bravery, even though she doesn't mean to.

It's almost like the ritual of Grace has forced her to think of all the positive qualities of her parents.

She thinks of the Lily Potter who laid her life for her and she thinks of the Lily Potter who laid her life for Harry. She thinks of both the James Potters who stood up to Voldemort to give his family more time.

But are the people she will soon be burying her _real_ parents? She feels like an impostor. Her mind doesn't stay on that for long though, because what's happening is morbidly beautiful.

The Acromantula silk robes that her parents are dressed in alone continues to burn merrily under the white flame, though nothing is really burning; there's no ash formed anywhere.

Remus steps up and places a large bronze coin on each of the corpses' foreheads, after which Dumbledore concludes the ceremony.

"All things have a start and all things have an end. The start and the end are the same. Let dust become dust and ash become ash. Let those buried merge with life just as they merged with life when they were first born. Blessed be thy travels."

He waves his wand with what Bella feels is an unnecessary flourish, and the flames disappear, leaving the corpses glowing unnaturally. Wooden boards grow to encapsulate her parents within the coffins, before the two coffins raise and lower themselves into the ground.

At that moment, she realises that the mysterious blonde has disappeared from next to her. Bella frowns; she isn't that unobservant usually.

All those present raise their wands and repeat, "Blessed be thy travels." Sparks shoot out, and the graves are now covered with fresh mud.

It reminds her of how she buried Dobby in her own thread. And that adds one more thing to ever growing list of things to do - to see if Dobby wants to be set free, and use his help to get Riddle's diary.

Bella watches as Sirius says the line with his face devoid of any emotion, Harry nestled firmly in his left arm. She should have taken the baby from him, seeing as she isn't supposed to participate in the last part anyway.

She walks close to Sirius, and holds his right hand in hers, pressing it firmly to comfort him. However, he doesn't notice it, as he is too busy glaring at someone under the ash trees - ah, Snape.

When Remus comes up to them, she lets go off Sirius' hand and hugs him tightly, and he hugs her back.

"You did well," he says, giving her a grim smile.

She turns to take Harry from Sirius, and once she does that, Remus engulfs Sirius in a bear hug. It reminds her of how her Remus and her Sirius had hugged each other in the Shrieking Shack back in her Third Year.

The various people assembled start coming towards them, and she whispers in both the Marauders' ears, "I don't want to meet these people, can I leave?"

Remus opens his mouth and looks as though he is about to protest, but Sirius nods his head at her. Before she can ask if she can leave the premises, the voice from before says, "Take a walk with me, Isobel?"

She turns around to eye the blonde witch. There's something about her which screams safety and warmth. Bella can't understand this instinct, as she usually is never too hasty in trusting others.

"Who are you?" asks Bella, slightly mesmerised by the woman's tawny eyes.

"Helen Flamel."

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

They're sitting on a bench in an older part of the cemetery. The silence is awkward, to say the least. Bella has no idea what to say.

At long last, Helen says with a sigh, "I've waited for so long to see you, to actually talk to you and now that the moment is here, I don't know what to do."

Bella gives the woman a tiny smile as Harry tries to wriggle and get down from her lap. Bella has no plans of letting him frolic in a place where dead people are buried.

"Why don't you tell me about yourself?" asks Bella, in an attempt to get the conversation moving. Hopefully, it will become less awkward over time.

"My name's Helen. And I'm your godmother, as you might have gathered from Skeeter's article. And I was your guardian for the past few years."

Bella nods at this, but narrows her eyes when she realises that that's all the older witch has to say.

"Don't give me that look, duckie," she chuckles lightly. "I know you have many questions - I can see it in your eyes. But there's no point in me telling you about me. You should form an opinion of me by yourself."

"Right..." says Bella, racking her head for something else to say. What does one say to a stranger to make small talk? Make comments about the weather?

And that's what she's about to do, when Helen speaks, "I see you didn't use the Deathstick today."

"Yes. Uh, the spell for the Fire of Grace didn't work with it. I had to get a new wand."

"You'd think a wand touched by Death himself would be easier to help the departed move over, wouldn't you?" she asks rhetorically.

Bella nods her head once again, before focussing her entire attentions on the impossible task of flattening Harry's hair.

The sun creeps up steadily, and a bird starts chirping.

"That's odd," Helen says, and Bella looks up from fussing over Harry.

"What is?"

"Mockingbirds aren't indigenous to Great Britain."

"Huh?"

"The sound... It's the nest relief call. Interesting..." the blonde says, gazing sharply at the upper branches of the tree under which their bench is.

"I thought the mockingbird could copy sounds?"

The other witch is silent for a while, before she turns to Bella and says, "I have a book on them, if you'd like to read it. Right now, I think it's time we went back to your... friends."

As they make their way back, Helen asks, "Mind if I hold him?"

Bella reluctantly hands over Harry, watching in surprise, as Harry doesn't throw a fuss. If she closes her eyes, she can still hear Harry bawling at Madam Malkin's.

Harry reaches up and tugs Helen's hair, as she chuckles, "As always, Harry-boo."

"What?" asks Bella before she can help herself.

"Harry always pulls my hair when I pick him up, don't you Harry-boo," she says, nuzzling his cheek as Harry giggles.

"You've met Harry before?" she asks, feeling oddly left out.

"Of course I have, duckie. What kind of a godmother would I be if I didn't interact with my goddaughter's baby brother?"

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Only Remus and Sirius are there by the freshly covered grave when Bella and Helen, along with Harry enter the newer part of the graveyard.

At least, that's what she thinks, until a tall imposing figure makes its way to the group. And it's someone Bella can identify with her eyes closed; after all, she has been at the receiving end of this woman's portrait's many shrieks.

It's Walburga Black.

Sirius tenses, seeing her, and almost instinctually, Bella slips her hand into his, squeezing it slightly. He holds her hand tightly, and she can see Helen quirk her eyebrow at that.

There's something about Helen which reminds her of Hermione. And Luna. A rational Luna. Is that even possible?

Remus whispers in a low tone, "You invited your mother?"

But before Sirius can answer, Walburga's long strides have brought her right to them.

"A well performed ritual, Lady Potter. I'm sorry for your loss" she says, not looking all that sorry. Her eyes are cold, calculative. Her icy blue eyes look devoid of any humanity.

If there's one thing Bella has learnt from this thread, it's that meaningless diplomacy between heads of houses is important.

"Thank you, Lady Black, for your kind words" she says, gently extricating her hand from Sirius'. It wouldn't do to give Walburga anything else to talk about.

The older witch looks meaningfully at the others and in a lofty voice announces, "I'd like to speak in private with Lady Potter."

Sirius growls at his mother, "No."

"All righty, then. We'll be waiting by the trees there, hmm?" says Helen, walking away with Harry, as Remus grabs Sirius and drags him along.

Great support system they are, leaving her to face Walburga alone, thinks Bella, trying to not let her irritation be apparent on her face. Traitors, the whole lot of them.

Over the Black matriarch's shoulder, she sees Helen turn her head and throw a reassuring smile at her. Bella focuses her gaze back on Walburga's impassive face.

"This might seem like an inappropriate time to ask this, but what are your intentions with my son?"

"What!" exclaims Bella incredulously.

"It's my duty, as the Black Mistress, to figure out what you mean to do with my son, the Black Heir," her eyes icier than ever.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," says Bella, her eyes narrowing.

"Don't you? My house-elf thinks otherwise. As does my niece, whom I met in a ministry holding cell yesterday."

"Your house-elf is insane and bigoted. Your niece, apart from being insane and bigoted, is also a sociopath. I would take both their words lightly."

"You are bordering on impertinency here, Lady Potter."

"And you're completely being inappropriate here," counters Bella, her fingers itching to take out her wand.

"If you have any matrimonial interest in my son, now would be the time to tell me."

"I assure you, Lady Black, that I have no _matrimonial_ interest in your son. But even if I did, it would be between me and your son. It would be none of your business, really."

An approving growl comes from Bella's left and she almost jumps. There's a large Grimm standing next to her, glaring menacingly at Walburga Black. Bella holds back a smile. She has no idea how long he's been standing there, unobserved by the both of them.

"I should have known that you Potters would stoop low enough to bring up such mutts," the older woman spits out viciously, glaring at Padfoot, who has moved to stand in between the two witches.

"Are you openly insulting the Potters, Lady Black? Are you trying to start a feud between our houses?" she asks, drawing her wand out of its holster.

Walburga sneers at her, eyeing her wand. "There can't be a blood feud. Your grandmother was a Black. Try to be more informed next time, child."

The way she says it rankles Bella, so she's thrilled when Padfoot snaps at the other woman's ankles.

"Tell my son I love your earrings, won't you?" she says scathingly, as she takes a few steps away, not turning her back on Bella, before Disapparating with a pop.

Bella drops to the ground, throwing her arms around the shaggy dog.

"Thanks for that, Sirius," she says, burying her face in his thick hair. Padfoot pulls back a little and licks her on her face. Bella laughs.

"Eww, stop that. That's disgusting!" she says, not meaning a word of it. Padfoot barks in response, his tail wagging madly.

"Let's go see where Remus, Helen and Harry are, hmm? They're the worst people I know, leaving me to the tender mercies of your mother."

Padfoot growls at the mention of Walburga, and Bella places a kiss on his head, between his ears.

"C'mon boy, let's go."

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

It's half five when Bella returns 'home' with Harry. She's dead on her feet and Sirius has decided to spend the night with Remus. Bella understands that he needs his space.

Bella's mind is more taken up by her mysterious godmother who'd made some flimsy excuse after lunch and had disappeared shortly after that. Bella realises that she knew close to nothing about Helen Flamel.

Her godmother has platinum blonde hair, knows Harry, and knows trivia about the mockingbird. Bella's information on her may have as well been useless.

She sits down on the sofa and hugs Harry tightly, feeling lonely. She hates feeling this way. It's not just about being alone, it's about having no one to really turn to; no one to really trust with her whole heart. No adult, that is.

"You know what, Harry?" she asks the sleepy toddler in her arms. He looks at her drowsily, and Bella just wants to cover his little face with kisses.

"You lost a mum and a dad. You lost the two people who loved you the most. But it's okay. It's okay because I promise you that I'll be here for you, I'll be here to look after you. No one was there for me, but I won't let the same thing happen to you. Ever. Because I love you, sweetheart. And I'm supposed to be your sister, but I'll be whatever you want me to be. If you want a mother, I'll be her. If you want a friend, I'll be her. If you just want a sister, I'll be her. You'll always have me around, love."

She stares into his green eyes, and has the oddest feeling that he can understand her perfectly.

"I'm going to be there for you, Harry. I'm going to protect you, and love you, and care for you. I'm going to spoil you rotten and buy you the latest brooms. I'm going to teach you Quidditch and the nastiest jinxes anyone can think of. And somehow, I'll manage to get that horrible Horcrux out of you, so that you can lead a happy life. And we'll be the best of friends, okay? I'll do everything for you."

She bends down and kisses him on his forehead, right on his scar, and hugs him tighter.

"La," he says faintly, shifting a little, his eyes fluttering shut as he finally stops rubbing at them. Bella raises her hand to wipe away a tear. It's incredible, how much she loves him. It's scary too. It's scary to believe that she could actually love and care for another human being so damn much.

"How come you aren't hungry?" she asks him idly, watching the baby drift to sleep. Aren't babies supposed to be hungry all the time?

She takes him to his room and gently removes his clothes. She changes his diaper and puts on a Slytherin green onesie.

"Goodnight, Harry. Bella loves you," she whispers, as she leaves a tiny night lamp on.

She doesn't close the door.

A quick survey of the fridge reveals a pack of Butterbeers that she's sure wasn't there yesterday. She pops a bottle open, before deciding against limiting herself.

She takes the whole pack out, closing the fridge with her foot. She makes her way to Sirius' room, and proceeds to drink all of them, after changing out of her stuffy dress.

The cold, frothy, sweet drink makes her feel better and she falls asleep, pleasantly buzzed.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

 _"You've done well, Isobel. We're so proud of you," says the pale figure of a red-haired woman._

 _"It's just a few steps now, we'll be with you till the end," says a lanky man whose glasses keep slipping off. He uses a translucent hand to push them up._

 _"Dying? It's easier than falling asleep," assures the handsome man with shoulder-length hair, tilting his head to one side._

 _"It's simply the natural progression of things. Everyone's supposed to die," says the fourth adult wisely, his scars shining silver. He holds a blue-haired baby in his arms._

 _"So close, sweetheart. We're right next to you," says the lone female of the group, stepping closer._

 _Together, the four ethereal figures form a barrier around the shivering green-eyed teen, protecting her from the dementors. They protect her with love and promises of a reunion._

 _They shall be reunited, soon._

 _A metal ring falls from the hand of the girl onto the floor of the forest, but she doesn't pause to pick it up. She can't see the others anymore, but that doesn't mean she can't feel them around._

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

When Bella wakes up, it's to find her face pressed against something warm. She blearily opens her eyes to see that she's snuggled against a warm chest.

"Gahh!" she exclaims, scrambling away.

Sirius continues to sleep, undisturbed.

When she realises that he won't be waking up, she sits there on the bed, watching his face. She doesn't feel like a creepy stalker, not at all.

There are lines on his forehead, and he looks tired, even while sleeping. His mouth is slightly open, and his lips look enticing, even in the semi-darkness. His shoulder-length hair is messily spread all over the pillow.

Bella reaches out and pushes some of his hair from his face, watching him breathe in and out deeply. She tries to push all thoughts of how utterly kissable his lips look out of her head, reciting the twelve uses of dragon blood in her head.

It helps.

A distant rhythmic sound from somewhere outside makes her aware of the fact that there's an outside world to get to. Watching Sirius sleep seems to be a bubble, isolating her from the rest of the world.

She's a horrible guardian, her first waking thought should be Harry.

Picking up the empty bottles quietly, she makes her way to the kitchen. She then checks on Harry, placing a kiss on the sleeping baby, after adjusting his blankie.

As she makes her way out, she sees a large brown owl tapping at the window. Hedwig, on the other hand, seems to be missing.

She unlatches the window, letting it swing outward. The owl hoots angrily at her, almost as if she should have warned it that the window would open that way.

The owl barely waits, flying out the window the minute Bella unties the roll of parchment from its leg.

 _'Dearest Isobel,_

 _You probably have tons of questions to ask me. I know that if I were in your place, I would too. As I told you yesterday, I want for us to get to know each other._

 _I may seem a stranger, but remember that your parents did see something in me to name me your godmother. I'm not asking you to implicitly trust me, but I'd like for you to give me a chance._

 _Would you like to meet for lunch today? Or on any other date, really. It's all your choice. There's a place on Horizont Alley, The Inn. If you have a different suggestion, I wouldn't mind going there either. Wherever you choose, duckie._

 _I'd like to meet just you, to be really frank. Please leave Harry behind with his godfather. I have nothing against the man, but I'd like our lunch to be private._

 _Reply by at least 11 am. That would give me ample time to make a reservation at whichever restaurant it is you want to go to._

 _Love,_

 _Helen'_

Bella sets the letter on the table, and tears out a sheet from her notepad.

 _'Dear Helen,_

 _Yes, I'd love to meet you. The Inn sounds lovely. I'll meet you there at half-twelve for lunch today?_

 _Regards,_

 _Bella'_

Now , she has to wait till Hedwig gets back from hunting rats, or whatever it was she is up to. In the meantime, she decides to make herself a mug of coffee.

It is only when she opens the kitchen cupboard that she remembers that all the coffee powder has gone 'missing'.

Huffing in annoyance, she sets a kettle of water on the stove to boil.

She knows, just _knows,_ that Sirius has something to do with her missing coffee. Doesn't he know that she depends on it the way everyone else needs air?

Should she hide his Earl Grey in retaliation? No, that would be immature. The better thing to do would be to use up _all_ the tea leaves.

So Bella sets out to make herself four large mugs of strong tea.

Sirius can suck on that.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

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§

* * *

 **Note :**

For those of you who wonder why I used 'cemetery' instead of 'graveyard'. Yes, both are burial grounds, but a graveyard is one that adjoins a church. A cemetery, on the other hand, is not joined to or maintained by a church. You will find Christmas being referred to as Yule in this story. And it'll be Samhain, as opposed to Halloween. Yes, wizards and witches in this story follow the Wheel of the Year, and are pagans, or neopagans, to a large extent. I don't think people who have magic would willingly believe in a God. Which is why a magical burial ground, in my eyes, would never be linked to a religious institute (i.e, a church). I hope that clears things up.

* * *

 **Review replies:**

omaris . rosador, I wish you had your PM facility turned on. Your review summarises the characteristic traits of both MCs perfectly. Thanks for reading and reviewing. :) :D

Guest, normally I'd agree with you, but as I mentioned in a previous chapter, Lily had particularly requested for Snape to be present at her funeral. Also, Bella still clearly remembers how Snape sacrificed himself for the greater good. I can't imagine her feeling any less defensive about him, even he's not the best human being all the time. Thanks for your review, though. :)

Fallow52, thanks for the review. :)

marie potter riddle, thanks a lot for reading and reviewing! :) :* If your PM facility had been turned on, I would have PMed you.

* * *

 **AN:**

Eh, I forgot to update? *cringes*

But I'm sooooo excited. :D We're so close to the end of the introductory arc. One more chapter, then an interlude. *asdfghjkl* I'm so bloody excited, haha. And then we'll be onto serious Horcrux hunting. Also, who's looking forward to some smut?(Oooh) Or at least a kiss? 'Cause I am. ;)

Thanks for all the love that you're showering on this story, it means a lot. Thanks to all the followers, favourite-ers, readers and lurky-lurkersons. And oh, did I forget the reviewers? Here's a huge hug to all of you who take the time to review. You rock. *heart* :) :*

I'm rather proud of the ritual and that poem that Dumbles chanted. ^_^ What do you think?

* * *

Next update: April 16th, 2016. (Hopefully?)

Please review, I've had a mehhh day, and need some cheering up.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter? Not mine. Cover art? Not mine. The concept of Elementals belongs to Raul Fictitious. I've used it with permission. If you love AU stories, you should give their story Harry Potter And The Elemental's Power a chance. It's brill, I swear.

 **Pairing:** Sirius/fem!Harry

 **Warnings:** I don't have a beta reader. Please bear that in mind.

 **Dedication:** This chapter is for paulaa90, for being such a sweetheart and for offering to help me with my Computer Networks paper. :*

* * *

§

* * *

THREADS OF TIME

* * *

 _Chapter 9_

* * *

 ** _"If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete."_**

~ Jack Kornfield ~

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"... X. Y. Z," Bella finishes singing to a highly amused Harry, who's banging the empty utensils she's kept in front of him.

"Are you teaching my godson the alphabet?" comes a voice.

Bella turns around and smiles at the source of the voice carefully. Sirius looks miserable, though he seems to be making a valiant effort to seem cheerful.

"No, I couldn't think of anything else to sing," she admits, biting her lower lip. She likes the way his eyes focus on that tiny action of hers.

"I'll have to give you a musical education, then. Haven't you ever heard of The Beatles?"

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask you... How is it _you_ own a Beatles t-shirt? They're a Muggle band."

"Haven't you actually met me? I'm Sirius Black, Heir of the House of Black, proponent of all things Muggle," he says sarcastically.

She doesn't reply to that, but goes back to feeding Harry.

"What's your favourite Beatles song?" she asks quietly, as Sirius sits down on the chair next to her and leans forward, dropping his head onto his hands.

"Hey Jude," he says in a scratchy voice, after a moment of silence. Bella nods her head and goes back to feeding Harry.

Finally, when the silence gets too awkward, Bella keeps the bowl and the spoon on the table and asks the question that she already knows the answer to. "How are you?"

Sirius opens his eyes, and they're so full of pain that Bella just wants to hug him and never let go.

"I've been better," he says weakly.

She places her right hand on his left one, and says in what she hopes is a soothing voice, "This too shall pass, you know?"

He nods his head slowly, but doesn't shake off her hand. She takes that as a sign of him not feeling antagonistic towards her.

They sit there in relative silence for a while, till Harry drops one of the empty goblets he was playing with, the loud crash startling both Bella and Sirius. It's funny how her hand has automatically reached for her wand.

Leaning forward to place a kiss on Harry's nose, she takes the empty bowl to the sink to wash, patting Sirius' head as she passes his chair. She doesn't want to leave Sirius alone when he's in this state, but she has no choice, seeing as Helen made it very clear.

Bella decides to send Remus a quick note, asking him to check on his best mate a few hours after she has left. After all, isn't that what friends are for?

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Right, so if there's an emergency, you know where to Floo me, right? Or send me a Patronus message, that'll be faster. If Har-"

"Just leave already," grumbles Sirius from the doorway. He's leaning against the doorframe, holding Harry, who's waving out brightly.

"It's just that I - "

"You forget, Isobel, that I used to babysit Harry when he was just a few months old. Stop worrying," he says, physically pushing her out.

"Fine, let me just say bye to Harry," counters Bella, bending to press kisses onto the toddler's face, smiling as he grabs a lock of her hair in his chubby fist.

"You know you've left him and gone out before, don't you? Why the sudden separation anxiety?"

"Umm - Nothing. It's just - It's nothing. Leave it," she says, not wanting to tell Sirius about the promise she made to Harry just yesterday. It's something personal; something between just her and Harry, though it's highly unlikely that Harry understood anything of what she said.

She gently unclenches Harry's hand and takes out the lock of her hair, kissing his tiny hand when she sees his befuddled expression.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" she tells Sirius, watching the way he's looking at her, the way he's staring right into her eyes. Bella leans up, standing on her tiptoes, and plants a kiss on Sirius' cheek.

"Bye," she mutters, before hurrying to the staircase.

She doesn't turn around, not wanting to see Sirius' expression. Or reaction.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Isobel!" comes a pleasant voice from behind, and Bella turns around to see Helen come towards her with her arms outstretched. She hugs Bella briefly, before kissing both her cheeks.

"How are you today? Any tiredness?"

Bella finds this affection and concern overwhelming. It reminds her of Molly Weasley, and thinking about her original thread is not something that she wants to do right now. She doesn't want to think of the past, ever. She wants to live in the now.

"I'm all right. I slept like a log, to be honest," she says, shrugging her shoulders slightly.

"That's to be expected, of course. Powerful spells require a higher level of energy to be spent on them," she says, guiding Bella into the restaurant.

The maître d' greets Helen like he's already acquainted with her. Bella watches silently, as Helen asks him to show them to the private room she's booked.

He offers to help take Bella's cloak off, and she allows him to, so that she's dressed only in her midnight black robes.

The maître d' seats them in a private dining room, helping them onto their chairs, before wishing them a good day and retreating from the room, closing the door on the way out. The second the door shuts completely, Helen springs out of her chair and starts casting wards wandlessly.

"Why are you casting wards?" Bella asks, leaning back lazily into the seat. She should buy furniture like this.

"For privacy, duckie. We don't want nosy eavesdroppers to go sell your story to anyone who might be interested, do you?"

"You'll only have to undo the wards every time a waiter brings us something," Bella points out.

"The speciality of The Inn is that their private rooms do not require waiters. I'm afraid we'll have to serve ourselves, though," she says, sitting back down on her chair opposite Bella, grinning slightly. "So, duckie, what do you want to eat?"

"I have no idea," says Bella, feeling a little out of depth.

"You only have to will what you want to eat, and that'll appear right in front of you."

"But doesn't that violate Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration?"

"You're not conjuring food. You're simply summoning food what the house-elves have made."

"Do you mean to say anything and everything that can be willed is already made, waiting in the kitchens?" she asks her godmother, a little sceptically.

"Precisely."

When Bella continues looking at the other woman in the hope of a better explanation, she clears her throat and answers, "Have you heard of time-pockets?"

"Er, no?"

"A time-pocket is a region of space that creates an independent timeline, of sorts. Space and time are compressed into a pocket because of the anomalous gravitational field that is experienced by certain regions in the universe. In these regions, time runs at a different speed compared to the areas surrounding the pocket.

"So essentially, when you enter a pocket, say it is 11 am here. You spend an hour in the pocket, reading a book, or performing any other activity. When you step out of the pocket, it'll only be 11:01 am here. So essentially, you have lived for an hour in the external time frame of a second.

"Does that make sense?"

Bella doesn't know when exactly her mouth fell open, but now that she realises that she probably looks like a troll trying to learn Charms, she shuts her mouth.

"So you mean to say time goes faster in a pocket?" she asks uncertainly.

"Not necessarily faster. It depends on the relative difference in the gravitational fields."

"So the kitchen of The Inn has a time-pocket?" asks Bella incredulously.

"Why do you think this place is so expensive, duckie?" she asks, her tawny eyes glimmering with what Bella thinks could be amusement.

"Then why did we come here? There are so many other cheaper places to eat in," protests Bella, not sure if Helen is pointing out the expensiveness of this restaurant on purpose. Bella hates people who show off their wealth, even though she is pretty wealthy herself. It reminds her of Draco Malfoy.

"I thought we'd launch straight away into educating you. And a time-pocket is a concept that you need to understand, so that we can proceed with your proper education."

Bella looks at the blonde pixie-like woman a little blankly, before changing the topic abruptly, "Could you show me how exactly to order the food?"

Helen smiles at her, as though she knows that Bella changed the topic on purpose.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

The topic of Bella's 'education' is brought up again as she finishes her cold pea soup.

"What are you proficient in?" asks Helen.

"Sorry?" says Bella, wiping her mouth on the napkin.

"What subjects have you studied so far? And what are you best at?"

Bella thinks for a moment, before answering, "I wrote my OWLs in Charms, Tranfiguration, Herbology, Astronomy, History of Magic, Divination, Potions and DADA. I failed History of Magic. I'm really good at DADA, though. I was first in class."

"What is this DADA?" asks Helen, her eyes slightly narrowed.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," says Bella sheepishly, realising how it must sound to a Dark witch.

"That is absolutely discriminatory!" cries Helen, as expected.

"Then what is its equivalent called here?" asks Bella, truly curious.

"Defence. Just plain ol' Defence."

"Huh," says Bella wondering if she should wait for Helen to finish before ordering the next course. She's so hungry, she could eat a horse.

"But you failing in History of Magic is ironic," says Helen, a ghost of a smile on her face.

"Hmmm?" says Bella, perking up.

"It was your mother's favourite. After Charms, but nevertheless, your mother loved History of Magic. Your father used to tease her saying you and Harry are both going to fail History of Magic just to make him proud."

Bella smiles at the faraway look in the other witch's eyes.

"How long did you know my parents?" she asks, feeling like a stranger who's been allowed a privileged look into the life of people she's always wanted to know, but never had the chance to.

"I met them a week before their wedding. They were lovely people. Now, want to order your main course?"

Bella smiles at the woman, recognising the fact that she's changing the subject on purpose. Maybe birds of a feather do flock together.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

They've both just finished having their dessert. They'd both ordered strawberries and cream.

As Bella rests back into her seat, her stomach truly full after a long time, she asks, "This 'education' that you keep talking about... What does it comprise?"

"Every witch or wizard needs to apprentice themselves to another proficient witch or wizard of the same affinity. Your affinity, as you already know, is necromancy. Lucky for us, I'm an Elemental. A Soul Elemental, to be exact. And that means your art comes under my direct jurisdiction. So I can offer to be your mentor."

"And what would I learn from you?"

"I'll teach you the basics and the essentials, enough for you to gain a mastery in the subject. It is similar to the Muggle concept of graduate studies. The thing is, you'll have to stay with me continuously for a period of around three years, as I teach you everything you need to know."

"Stay with you as in stay in your house?" asks Bella, feeling slightly apprehensive at the prospect. What about Harry?

"Yes, duckie. That means you'll have to stay under the same roof as me. And don't worry about Harry, you can bring him too."

"Sirius won't allow Harry to just stay with me," says Bella, thinking back to the fuss he'd thrown nearly two weeks back.

"Why don't you ask him to move with you as well? And while you're at it, ask Lupin to move in as well. Harry will need a support system as he grows more."

"You've just asked literal strangers to move into your house with you. And you do realise that you've not yet asked me to be your apprentice, right?" asks Bella, deflecting the question.

"Fine, duckie," she huffs, before saying in an exaggerated manner, "Will you do me the honour of being my lovely apprentice?"

"I'd love that," she says, smiling, though inside, she's panicking about how best to convince the dog animagus to move in. Remus will most probably say no, due to his condition. She has no idea what to do.

"Lovely, duckie. Now, in case Black refuses to cooperate, you can strong arm him into doing so. Threaten to take Harry and walk out."

"What?" asks Bella in horror. She'll never stoop so low as to do that for Sirius, not when Harry is the only thing he has left of James.

"Don't be naïve, duckie. Sometimes, you'll have to do unpleasant things in order to get things done. You're here on a mission, remember. It's your duty to do what you've promised to do. The only thing that matters is that you keep your word," she says.

Bella isn't too sure if she likes Helen.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

A while later, they're walking out the front door, when Bella catches sight of a slim blonde female, giving instructions to a shorter, plump woman. As she walks past them, she hears a snippet of the instructions.

"- which is why I want Draco to look resplendent this Yule. The robes must be the best in the whole of Britain. I think sapphire blue would be perfect. I want it to match the chiffon dress you made me for Samhain. Your- "

Bella almost smiles to herself, at the thought of Draco dressed in chiffon robes. The thought is so funny. Merlin knows he made her school life hell. The best way to get back now would be to make Harry better dressed than him. It's a very childish thought, but she can't help it. It's almost as if she's promoting competition between Malfoy and Harry, even though they're just babies.

She can't stop the smirk that forms on her face, even as Helen tells her that they'll start the apprentice this Yule and that she'll have to take up her OWLs by then.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

When Bella enters the apartment, it's deadly quiet.

It's a reflex, the way her hand immediately goes to her holly wand. There's no sign of a struggle, so that's a good thing. Not being able to hear Harry is worrying, though.

Feeling like one of those stupid females in a horror movie who gets killed right in the beginning, she calls out, "Sirius? Harry?"

There's a vague sense of déjà vu, as she checks the empty kitchen. Harry's bedroom is empty as well, though she notes that Harry's stuffed dragon isn't there in the crib.

It's with a mild sense of apprehension that she next enters Sirius' room. The partial shadow coming in from the window genuinely calms her down.

She drops the parcels she's been clutching in her left arm on the bed, before taking a moment to study the person sitting outside.

She goes to the window and hoists herself through the narrow frame, to crawl onto the tiny balcony attached to the building. It's a bit cramped, but Sirius shifts a little to the left to make space for her.

Bella copies his pose and sits cross-legged next to him, her knee touching his.

"Hi," she greets quietly, her heart-rate not quite back to normal.

Sirius briefly turns to look at her, not saying anything, before turning back to stare at the empty road.

Undaunted, she asks, "Where's Harry?"

"With Remus," comes his curt answer.

"Gave me quite a scare, the house being empty like that," she confesses, deciding that it's best to get the small talk out of the way before she starts more serious topics.

"Harry'll always be safe with me," he says, though it sounds more like a promise than a statement to Bella.

"And with Remus too," she gently adds.

"Yeah, him too."

The conversation degenerates into silence, and Bella takes it as a chance to study Sirius' side profile in the late afternoon sun.

He looks tired, and yet, more alive than she's seen him. It's a beautiful juxtaposition. From this angle, she can see how unfairly long his eyelashes are. When he blinks, his eyelashes almost touch his face, and Bella finds herself watching how often he blinks closely.

He closes his eyes and rests his head back on the brick wall behind him. His cheekbones are high and alluring and Bella wants to brush her thumb across it. How would they feel? Her eyes are drawn to his chin, his pointed aristocratic chin. There's a light trace of a stubble on it, and Bella can't help but wonder whether it would tickle if he were to rub his chin down her neck as he kissed it, and then continue down, further down, down her -

Bella can feel her face flushing and shakes her head to clear it of obviously inappropriate thoughts. Sirius Black was her godfather in her thread. Sirius Black, in both the threads, was her father's best friend.

Too late, she realises that Sirius has opened one eye. And that eye is focussed on her, coolly regarding her probably still blushing face.

"You all right, love?" he asks and she exhales deeply, before tilting her head to one side.

"Aren't you going to ask me how my lunch went?"

Now two blue-grey eyes are focussed on her.

"No."

"Okaaaay," she says, stretching out the word, uncertain on how to proceed. "That was not at all rude."

When he doesn't say anything, she continues, "Helen -"

"Offered you an apprenticeship and asked you to move in with her," he interrupts.

"H-How did you know?" Bella asks, trying not to gape. Gaping once a day is more than enough, and she's already used up her daily quota.

"You're going to ask me if I'd be fine with you moving in with Flamel along with Harry. And then you're going to ask me to move with you as well, because you know I'm not letting him go, ever."

Bella gulps visibly, before drawing on her Gryffindor courage. "So will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Will you be willing to live in a stranger's house, for Harry's sake?"

"Isn't that what you're doing right now?" he says, a ghost of a smile on his face.

Bella finds herself smiling back at him, first a little hesitantly, and then brilliantly.

"So how _did_ you know?"

"It's traditional for an apprenticeship offer to be made at a meal. James and Lily said you were a necromancer. Helen Flamel is a Soul Elemental, just as her parents are Water and Fire Elementals. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together."

"And that's all? You figured all this from an invitation to lunch?"

"You made it abundantly clear that Flamel wanted to see only you. Not Harry, not me, just you. Apprenticeship offers are usually made in the presence of the person's guardian. And well, she's yours. Or was, at least."

"It could have just been an invitation to lunch, you know? Then your guess would have been wrong," she says, not willing to admit that she's impressed.

"If it had been an ordinary invitation to lunch, you wouldn't have been so anxious to talk to me, setting aside your initial tension at finding the house empty."

Bella leans back onto the wall, the frame of the window cutting into her back a little below her shoulder blades. She stretches her legs, poking her legs through the gap between the parallel iron grills to fit comfortably.

"You're a genius, Black," she says, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I know," he says, and though she can't see his face, she's pretty sure he's smiling.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Remus! Would you stay for dinner? Sirius and I made roast chicken," says Bella, smiling.

Remus is a bit surprised to find out that Sirius has done something apart from sit and stare listlessly into space.

"I can't stay for long, my shift's at eight," he says, watching how Harry seems genuinely happy to be held by his sister. Remus supposes that it's not just because of the Imprint.

Soon, he finds himself at the table, being served extra portions by the black haired female. It doesn't escape his notice that the food on her plate is hardly touched.

She's all the more focussed on feeding Harry his dinner, even though the toddler seems more interested in what she has on her plate.

It's a very awkward affair, and there's an unnatural silence at the table, though the food actually tastes good, delicious, even.

Sirius makes to refill his own wine glass for probably the fifth time, when Bella places her hand on Sirius' and subtly shakes her head. He scowls at her, but leaves the bottle alone.

Remus thinks it's almost funny, how Sirius has been domesticated.

As soon as dinner is over, Sirius announces that he'll do the dishes. And that surprises Remus, as much as it surprises Bella. Sirius Black willingly doing chores?

He goes out into the living room, carrying Harry out of his chair, Bella's concerned look at Sirius making him feeling like a third person in the room. As he settles on the sofa, he can hear her say something to his mate. It's too low for him to catch it, even with his werewolf hearing.

Harry wriggles out of his arms and makes his way, tottering, into his room. Remus turns to watch the toddler's progress.

"How was the food?" asks Bella a little too cheerily, plopping herself next to him.

"Lovely, thanks for inviting me."

"Oh, nonsense, you're always welcome here, you know that, right?"

When he simply smiles at her, she shakes her head and sighs in exasperation.

"Before I forget!" she exclaims, jumping off the sofa. "Wait right here, okay?"

She runs into Sirius' _bedroom_ , he notes with amusement. She's out in a matter of seconds, holding a velvet box.

"This is for you. Helen - that's the woman you met yesterday, she's my godmother - she told me that I'm supposed to give the person who teaches me the ritual of Grace a gift as a token of thanks and appreciation. So I got this for you," she says excitedly, bouncing a little in her seat.

Her mannerisms remind him of Lily.

"You didn't have to -"

"Open it!"

"Fine," he mutters, opening the clasp on the box. It's a large silver watch, with moons, stars and the sun around the dial instead of numbers. It's a wizard's watch.

"Thanks," he says, his voice cracking. His father had been too poor to buy him one for his seventeenth birthday, and had sold his when Remus was thirteen to pay for the St Mungo's bill.

"Go on, wear it," she cries, smiling, showing all her teeth,

Remus decides to humour her, and puts it on after removing his ordinary Muggle watch. The metal feels cool against his skin, as Bella takes his wrist to inspect it closer.

"It's perfect," she breathes out, smiling broadly. And she looks like a child, all that glee and pleasure in her eyes.

"Thank you, Isobel," says Remus gravely, realising that a lot of this teen's joy depends on the joy of the people around her. And that's just like Sirius, he thinks, internally smirking. Is he a bad friend for wanting to focus on his living friend's future instead of his dead friends' pasts?

"And it's not just that, the dial's face will turn blue every month when it's time to take the potion, so you'll never forget. You tap the watch with your wand once you drink the potion, and it'll remind you again the next full moon. Helen helped me with the runes and the spell," she says proudly, leaning back.

"Potion?" he asks, confused. The once a month thing she's referring to is obviously his 'furry little problem'. But potion?

"The Wolfsbane?" she almost asks, faltering on the last word.

He continues looking at her blankly, hoping she'll elaborate further, but then her eyes turn wide, and she sits up in her seat.

"Of course! I'm such a dolt! It hasn't been invented yet! I thought it was invented in 1958, but obviously, it has to be 1985! Oh my God, Remus!" she exclaims, throwing her arms around him, hugging him tightly before moving away.

"Thank you so much, Moony. I didn't realise. This is fucking brilliant!" she cries, half laughing.

Remus is puzzled and wants to ask more, but Sirius, whom he never noticed entering, says, "Doesn't your shift start in ten minutes?"

"Shite!" he exclaims, standing up. "I really have to go now Bella. But you have tell me what this potion is the next time we meet."

"I'll tell you all about it. And I also have something to ask you. So drop by tomorrow for lunch. Or dinner. Just get a bottle of wine," she says in a rush, standing up to hug him tightly.

He returns the hug hesitantly, and over her shoulder, watches the most fleeting of scowls pass over Sirius' face.

Now, isn't _that_ amusing.

He grins at his mate, and relishes in how annoyed he looks.

It looks like one of the Marauders has gone and gotten himself a bird to fancy, and Remus, being the most faithful friend ever, can't wait to take the mickey out of Sirius.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Sirius is resting against the headboard of his bed, reading a book, or rather, trying to, when there's a gentle knock on his partly open door. Before he can reply, she's inside, in those short shorts of hers. He doesn't know how she got her hands on those. And he has a vague feeling that such articles of clothing should be made illegal.

"Hey," she says, sitting on the bed next to his legs.

"What brings you here?" he asks, trying to sound as nice as possible. He has to keep reminding himself that he's taking to James' and Lily's daughter. They wouldn't have wanted him to be nasty to her.

"So, I got you this," she says, throwing a parcel to him. He catches it reflexively, and realises it's a brown paper package, tied up daintily with strings.

"What for?" he asks, as she turns around and swings her legs onto the bed. And that draws his attention to her pale, milky legs. They're not particularly long, but when she draws them up and rests her chin on her knees, all he wants to do is sit and stare at her. Endlessly.

"Your birthday. I missed it."

That's when Sirius realises that he too had forgotten all about it.

"Haha," he laughs humourlessly. "Happy twenty-second, huh?"

"Yes, even if it's eleven days late."

"Really, _happy_ twenty-second?" he asks again, thinking of how it would have had to have been one of his worst birthdays, so far.

"It could have been worse, you know? You could have been in Azkaban. Pettigrew would have been honoured with an Order of Merlin. Remus would have sunk into poverty and depression. And I'd have - I mean, _Harry_ would have been left with the Dursleys. Aren't you happy that none of that has happened?"

"I want to kill him. I really do," he tells her, in a moment of surprising honesty.

And then there's that expression on her face, almost as if her heart is breaking. She gives him a shaky smile, her green eyes filled with some nameless emotion.

"We'll get our revenge, I promise," she whispers softly.

It takes everything Sirius has to not crawl over to her and let her comfort him.

"Revenge sounds lovely," he says, almost as if it's just some food item he's ordering in a restaurant.

After a moment where there's a silent agreement that passes between the two of them, she brightens up, though it looks like it takes effort.

"Now, are you going to open my gift?"

Sirius shakes his head in amusement and smiles at her, feeling slightly better for the first time that day.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

§

* * *

 **AN:**

And we're done with the first arc!

Thanks XxbooblesxX, saku hyuuga, RegdirbArze EzraBridger, Aile d'Argent, DLM4, Skendo, Padfootette, harryislife, Concrete63, SoccerChick2112, jgood27, chibi-Clar, noneofmyshipssail, SelenaKat, paulaa90, ptl4ever419, myafroatemydog, grayceg and two guest users for taking the time to review the previous chapter. :*

Just a reminder, those of you who review all the chapters from 8 to 14 will get a spoiler/excerpt.

Bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens, anyone? ;)

* * *

Next up: An interlude from one of my favourite character's point of view.

Reviews are love. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter? Not mine. Cover art? Not mine.

 **Pairing:** Sirius/fem!Harry

 **Warnings:** I don't have a beta reader. Remember to remember that, 'kay?

 **Dedication:** This chapter is for mega-reviewer CrystallineX, who made my day nine times over. Thanks, love. :)

* * *

§

* * *

THREADS OF TIME

* * *

 _ **Interlude**_

* * *

It is winter, and yet, a bead of sweat rolls down his face as he sits there, hunched behind some bushes.

"I can't believe that we have to transport all this manually!" cries the black-haired witch, pausing in walking backwards as she carries one end of a wooden crib. She's wearing those tight trousers that Muggles wear, which is shameful. No proper lady should be caught dead wearing that.

Her stopping forces the brat who's carrying the other end of the crib to stop too.

"You should have given the delivery address as this place," protests the brat, scowling the way he has always scowled, and it's obvious that he hasn't changed a whit since moving out of Grimmauld Place.

The pair starts moving again, as the Halfblood witch protests, "And you never told me the furniture was unmagickable! Maybe -"

"Merlin, woman, I gave you one task, just one, and that was to fill up the billing details, and you messed it up! I -"

"Well, if you'd let _me_ pay for all of this, _you_ could have given the correct address!" retorts the witch, mirroring the brat's scowl.

"Can you both stop bickering and start bringing the furniture faster? And Bella, Helen wants me to tell you that she's keeping a mock test in Charms and Tranfiguration tomorrow," yells the werewolf from somewhere inside the manor, as the witch groans audibly.

Ah, what he wouldn't do to get his hands on such a manor to keep clean! The amount of dusting and waxing and polishing it would require! But no, it's not right of him to fantasise this way when he's here on a mission.

It is imperative that he follows Mistress' words properly.

The still squabbling pair now comes out of the house, having given the crib to a couple of house-elves to take further inside. He is mildly insulted that the brat did not consider him for the job.

Why does the brat hate him so much?

He shakes his head when he realises that he's missed a part of their conversation because of his inner musings. He can't afford to lose focus, not when he's on a terribly important mission.

"I'm the one who rented the van! I'm the one who did all that work, so don't you dare tell me I haven't done anything," the witch says, her eyes narrowed, as she pulls out a high chair from the Muggle contraption. The chair obviously belongs to the snivelling Halfbood baby.

"I was the one who drove all the way! You just slept! And don't even get me started about the radio selection!"

"It's not my fault that the music of this period sucks, okay? The music from the nineties is much better. And also, you call that _driving_? We almost died!" she shrieks, keeping the chair down on the cobbled pathway to turn and glare at the brat.

He makes note of what the witch has just said. There are two things of what she has said that matters to him - one, that she speaks of the next decade familiarly, and two, that the brat had driven the Muggle _veeakle_.

He decides to let Mistress know only of the second thing. The first, he plans to use for his own purposes. Maybe the strange Halfblooded witch is a Seer!

"Move out of my way, Isobel! I'm carrying a much heavier toy box, unlike you, carrying something so light that it can be carried with your little finger," he says, sneering.

Ah! It looks like the brat is allowed to call the witch by her first name! Won't Mistress be _thrilled_ to hear that!

"Sod off, Sirius," says the witch, spinning around, her robes flaring.

She proceeds to trip over her robes and fall spectacularly on the icy ground.

"Fuck!" she cries, sitting up and bringing her left leg closer, even as the brat shakes his head, keeps the box down, and hurries to help her up.

"I think my ankle's broken," she whimpers, as the brat squats down next to her, admonishing her in a low voice as he removes her left boot and sock.

Even from this distance, he can see her ankle swelling rapidly, though he can't make out what the brat is telling her.

The pathetic witch gives him a weak smile, her face still flushed from pain.

"Thanks, Siri," she says, and her voice is so soft he has to strain to hear it.

In a move that surprises him, the brat gets up, leans down, and picks the witch up, bridal style. He notes how the Halfblood witch seems comfortable with the brat's intimate touch.

"You're such a klutz, Isobel," says the brat with a gentleness he never expected to see in the brat, before carrying her into the house.

He hears the excited yelping of one of the manor's junior elves, about whether a healer should be called, just as the brat yells out to the werewolf.

"Moony! Isobel's hurt her foot! What spell will fix it?"

The brat's voice grows fainter as the duo moves further inside the house.

He looks at the large watch on his hand before looking at the furniture gleaming in the yard absently.

Mistress had only ordered him to report all that happened between the brat and the wh - No! He can't call the witch a whore anymore. The possibility of her being a Seer did not come under that category.

Furthermore, Mistress had not instructed him to come straight home.

He decides to sneak into one of the lesser used Black properties, before returning to Grimmauld Place.

Because he would rather accept clothes than give up on his secret. He'll keep up his promise to Madam Auriga till his last breath, he swears to himself, as he has done a thousand times before.

With a subdued crack, he Disapparates from his hiding spot.

* * *

§

* * *

 **AN:**

Sooo, how was the interlude? Can you guess whose POV it is in? ;) Did you expect it? *smirks* When I said that it was from one of my favourite character's POV, I did not mislead you, haha. Anyways, what do you think of this 'super important mission' that he believes he is on?

Here's a HUGE thanks to saku hyuuga, Espied7, chibi-Clar, Skendo, tnle, Aile d'Argent, XxbooblesxX, Fae0306, RegdirbArze EzraBridger, Nataly SkyPot, ptl4ever419, GreenOnBlack, Vi38, Jaz Luna Potter, noneofmyshipssail, uzumaki mimi, Happy. Death. Executioner, DLM4, paulaa90, VampWolf Girl 4Ever, 11lokilove, GiuliaZe, two guest users and the lovely CrystallineX for reading and reviewing. :) You're the best. :) I'll reply to the reviews within the next couple of days.

If you haven't seen the announcement on my profile page, what it says is that I'll be taking a break from FFN this month. I'll be writing and reading, just not posting anything. So I'll see you in June, mmkay?

I'm so bloody excited for the eleventh chapter, and I think it's my most favourite yet, plot-wise. :D ;) :D So please do read and review, it keeps me motivated and helps me write faster.

Also, if Drarry (with fem!Harry) is a ship you sail, I've started posting a story I started writing a while back. There's a teeny chance you may like it.

Have a wonderful May!

~ Rox

P.S. Dearest CharlotteBlackwood, this is how things are supposed to be.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter? Not mine. Cover art? Not mine.

 **Pairing:** Sirius/fem!Harry

 **Warnings:** Still don't have a beta reader. :3

* * *

 **So far:**

Isobel "Bella" Potter takes up Death up on His offer to live the rest of her life in an alternate universe, when she loses everything she holds dear in the Battle of Hogwarts. In the new thread, she learns that she hasn't simply popped into existence there – she seems to have a mysterious, logic-shattering history – one which her godmother seems to know all about.

Bella finds herself looking after her baby brother – something she'd have done even if they weren't Imprinted – and despite having an initially rocky start with her co-guardian, Sirius, she actually enjoys the parenting experience. In the midst of learning new rules and learning to survive without her best friends around, she finds herself conducting funerals and dealing with a cryptic godmother, who seems to have other things on her agenda. However, Bella has an agenda of her own, and hopefully, her blossoming friendship with Remus will help her check things off her list.

She's supposedly a necromancer, and now that she's moved in with her godmother-slash-mentor, she can only hope that she'll have a better grasp on the things going on around her. (Also, why does Walburga Black hate her?)

* * *

§

* * *

THREADS OF TIME

* * *

 _Chapter 11_

* * *

 ** _"A fraudulent intent, however carefully concealed at the outset, will generally, in the end, betray itself."_**

~ Titus Livius (Livy) ~

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella pads down the staircase barefoot, trying to be as quiet as a dormouse. There's no point in waking Helen's house-elf, Twigsy. Helen has two other house-elves. One looks after the extensive Flamel library, and the other helps Twigsy with the cleaning. –

She suppresses a shudder as she walks past the cupboard under the staircase – that's where Twigsy sleeps. When Bella had asked the wizened house-elf if she wanted to change her living quarters, the house-elf had given Bella an affronted look.

Bella adores Twigsy, she really does, but sometimes, the elf can be a little too overbearing.

As she crosses the grandfather clock in the passageway to the kitchen, she shines her wand on the face to see the time. It's almost one in the morning.

She shakes her head and blames her upcoming OWLs. Her circadian rhythm has gone for a toss, what with all the sitting up she's been doing, studying. She's had to relearn History of Magic and Defence. She's lucky that she has Helen and Remus as her teachers.

She flicks her wand at the lamp holder as she enters the dark kitchen, before proceeding to open the refrigerator to look at what's there to eat. There's some smoked salmon, but she doesn't want that.

Bella finally pulls out a bottle of milk, placing it on the picnic table in the kitchen, before opening a cupboard and taking out some cereal. The cupboard door squeaks a bit eerily.

She's halfway through her midnight meal, when a figure staggers into the kitchen. It's Sirius, and it's apparent that he has just Flooed in, going by the ash and soot on his clothes.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks, his voice as deep as ever.

She shrugs in response.

It's been a while since she actually spoke to Sirius. As in _really_ spoke. For the past couple of weeks, they seem to have been ships that pass in the night. They've shared the occasional smile, a lingering touch, or a quick goodbye peck – the latter two always making her blush.

He's been working overtime, probably trying to forget everything by immersing himself into the cases. Bella, on the other hand, has completely taken to having no fixed schedule to bind her.

She watches as he pulls out a bowl, before sliding into a seat opposite her.

"So how are your studies going?" he asks, as he pours out a generous amount of cereal into his bowl.

"Fine, I guess. History is sort of different here, though," she replies, after munching on the last mouthful of her meal.

"Huh."

She swallows a bit loudly, before checking to see if Sirius is watching her. When it's apparent that he's more focussed on pouring milk into his bowl, she lifts hers up, so that she can drink the remaining milk directly from it.

She notices the smirk on his face only when she keeps the bowl back on the table.

"And _I'm_ the dog Animagus," he says, obviously amused.

Bella rolls her eyes at him, before asking him, "How's work going?"

"Decently. We've been rounding up all the Death Eaters, based on new information that we've learnt from the recent set of trials. But those with gold manage to wriggle out even when we try our best," he says, scowling.

"Malfoy?"

"Obviously. I don't even know what Cissa saw in that bastard when she decided to marry him," he mutters, glaring at the polished grain of the table darkly.

"Has Karkaroff's trial been held yet?" she asks, remembering the Pensieve memory she saw a long time back.

"No, why? Anything to look out for?"

"Yeah. If the hearing goes the way it did in my thread, the whole Wizengamot will come to know that Crouch is a Death Eater."

"Crouch?" asks Sirius loudly, almost squawking. If it had not been about something this serious, Bella might have laughed.

"Barty Crouch. _Junior_ , that is. But the story doesn't end there."

She proceeds to tell him all about her Fourth Year (not _everything_ , of course), watching as his eyes blaze in anger when she mentions Pettigrew's part in the whole thing.

"You could have died," he says a little hoarsely.

"But I didn't," she reminds him, taking a hold of his right hand in her left, rubbing circles with her thumb. The anger she sees in his eyes worries her, because it reminds her of how temperamental and insane the Blacks can be.

His breathing comes back to normal, but there's a wild look in his eyes, and Bella worries that she might have made a mistake in telling him about her past.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

It's a couple of days later that she finds out that Pettigrew's trial has been scheduled for the 17th of December.

"Why is it no one tells me anything?" she asks Remus, as he leans back in his chair.

They're taking a break from revising Charms.

"I just told you, Bella," he says pointedly.

"No, you're telling me this _now_ , after knowing about it for two days. I always get information second-hand. It's not fair!" she protests, as Remus' eyebrow arches.

"I thought you were more mature that Sirius," he says, his eyes glinting.

Bella sticks her tongue out at him.

He shakes his head and a serious expression replaces his earlier one of amusement.

"Has Sirius told you anything about it?"

"The trial? He didn't. I mean, we spoke a little about Karkaroff's impending trial and Pettigrew, and he never even told me that the date had been announced. He knows that I don't read the newspaper, and yet he didn't tell me."

"I'm worried about him," says Remus softly.

"Why?" she asks him, feeling a pit of dread forming in her stomach.

"I saw him studying the building plans of the court room where the trial is to be held yesterday, when I was at the Ministry. It was right there on his table, when I popped into his cubicle to say hi to him.

"And I spoke to the Auror in charge of the case. She called me down to brief me on what to say as a witness. I found out that Sirius requested Amelia Bones to put him in the Auror guard for that courtroom for the 17th."

Bella sucks in a breath through her mouth, trying to keep calm.

"I may have told him some of the worse things that Pettigrew did in my thread," she admits quietly, looking down at the table.

When she looks up again, she sees how grim the wizard looks.

"He's going to do something foolish, isn't he?" she asks, finding it hard to breathe.

He nods, his jaws clenched tightly.

The pit in her stomach grows bigger and deeper.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Sirius!" she greets him later that evening, when they bump into each other when coming down the stairs. He's carrying a squirming Harry.

"Isobel," he greets calmly.

"I think he wants to be left down," she comments, even as he scowls briefly, before placing the toddler down on the next step.

Harry holds his hand upwards, towards Bella, the other gripping the railing. He looks at her expectantly, and she finds it hard to not coo and hug him and kiss him all over his adorable little face. So she places a finger in his hand, watching how those tiny fingers curl around her one long finger.

And then he jumps to the next step.

Bella and Sirius are forced to follow Harry, one step at a time.

"This is why I was carrying him down," says Sirius, even as she shakes her head.

"Stop being such a grumpy git, you have all the time in the world. It's the weekend, you can learn to wait."

When they finally reach the last step, Harry quickly lets go of her finger and runs into the dining room.

Sometimes, it feels like Harry knows exactly how much Twigsy favours him, and uses it to his own advantage. Bella decides that it must be her sleep deprivation that's making her attribute decidedly Slytherin traits to her baby brother.

When they're seated at the table and Twigsy has served them their food, Bella looks at Sirius and asks, "Why didn't you tell me about Pettigrew's trial?"

"You found out about that, did you?" he says, sneering slightly.

"Of course I did. Why didn't _you_ tell me?" she asks flatly.

"You've found out, why won't you let it go?"

"Because I thought we told each other things!"

"Do you tell me everything?" he questions, tilting his chin a little upward, glaring at her.

"That's what friends do. They confide in each other."

"W-We're friends?" he asks, looking a little stricken.

"Only if you want us to be," she says, wondering if he'll tell her whatever it is he's planned to do.

He does nothing of that sort, but nods his head ever so slightly in acknowledgement.

"Do you want it? To be friends?"

She narrows her eyes at him as she answers, "I thought we already were."

With that, she turns to feed Harry a bowl of steamed and mashed carrots, even as he keeps spitting each spoonful, grinning cheekily at the mess that's his highchair.

So it's _Plan B_ that they need to use. She'll have to write a letter tonight and ensure the procurement of certain items before she can start revising Transfiguration.

Why can't Sirius have just told her what it was that he was planning to do?

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

The 17th of December turns out to be a dull and grey day. Bella sits on the large sofa that's in the middle of the second floor, watching the snow fall gently.

What she's going to do is wrong. He's going to _hate_ her. She doesn't want that.

She tries to distract herself by observing all the decorations that Twigsy and Binny have hung around the house for Yule. Yule is three days away, and... Fuck, she hasn't bought any gifts yet.

What should she get Sirius?

And with that, her thoughts are back on the dog Animagus.

She thinks about how nice Sirius had been the night before last, helping her prepare for the Astronomy practicals in the attic of the manor, which Helen uses as an observatory of sorts.

An observatory with an indoor garden; magical flowers blooming all around. Bella thinks the word for it is an 'arboretum'? She hates how her vocabulary is stunted because of Petunia's pettiness when it came to giving her books to read.

Bella can't help but wonder if a date with Sirius Black would be similar to that night. He'd been so charming, and she'd blushed so much that she'd been worried that she was paying more attention to the impish grin on his face than to the names of the stars in Ancient Greek.

But the Astronomy OWL is no longer a thing to worry about, and Bella thinks she's done well, both in the practical and theory exam.

At long last, she lets out a long breath and gets up from the sofa slowly, taking a moment to stretch her body.

It's time.

She walks towards Sirius' door, and is about to open it, when he comes out, and they collide. But before she can fall down, Sirius has wrapped an arm around her waist, stabilising her.

She can feel the warmth of his arm which hasn't moved, and she knows she's blushing. Her face feels hot.

Sirius smirks, as he bends his head a little to growl in her ear, "You all right, love?"

Bella gulps and nods her head vigorously, not knowing what to say. Her brain finally starts working and she tries to push them apart, only to find that they both can't move.

The both look up at the same time, and Bella holds back a groan.

"Enchanted mistletoe," murmurs Sirius, his hold on her waist tightening, as he looks back down to look into her eyes. She can see the flecks of silver in his blue-grey eyes, as he looks at her intently.

Her eyes look downward for a second, and that's when she notices that both her hands are pressed against his chest. They're so close, she can smell his aftershave. She tries not to sniff too visibly as she meets his gaze once again.

"Do we have to kill Twigsy?" she asks, trying to alleviate the tension, but it's too late, because his eyes keep flicking between her eyes and her lips, even as his other arm creeps steadily upwards, towards her neck. His hand comes to a stop at her nape, and she can feel his fingers, warm but light.

She licks her lips, feeling her mouth go dry.

And then, before she can think, they're both moving towards each other, their eyes locked. He lips crash onto hers and all she can do is kiss him back with equal fervour, his chapped lips a pleasant contrast against her own softer ones. He's gentle but firm, and it makes her lips tingle.

She should stop now, she really should. But it's that once in a lifetime event where reality is even better than fantasy. So instead she keeps her eyes open.

Unable to help herself, she leans further in and deepens it. He takes that as a sign of encouragement and pulls her head backward, by tugging on her hair, her mouth opening slightly when she gasps. His tongue ghosts over the inner side of her lips, flicking outward to trace their shape, before he grips her hips and pushes her sideways against the doorframe.

He takes her lower lip between his teeth and bites it sharply, growling a little as she tugs away. There's this tiny fraction of space between them, and as Bella rests her head on the wooden frame, all she can do is study his lips.

It doesn't escape her notice that he's studying hers as well.

She closes the miniscule gap between them by tilting her head upward, inviting him to capture her lips with his own. She then invades his open mouth with her tongue. He tastes like the clementines he had for breakfast, and when he strokes her tongue with his, she can feel the heat stirring deep inside her.

The cool wood against her neck jars her back to reality, forcing her to break apart, this time for good. It's only when she opens her eyes that she realises that she'd closed them in the first place.

She notices that her hands are entwined around his neck, and that his hands are still on her hips, holding her against the doorframe firmly. It pleases her to see that Sirius' pupils are dilated, and that he's breathing raggedly.

She's pretty sure her face is flushed and she thinks her lower lip may be on the way to swelling up, but all she can do now is focus on her two arms which are around his neck.

She feels cheap, knowing that she's going to take advantage of him.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, and there's this change in his eyes which says he's not at all sorry about the kiss.

Truth be told, neither is she.

" _Petrificus Totalis_ ," she says quickly, having drawn her wand out of its holster. With her right hand resting on her upper left arm, despite them being around his neck, it had been ridiculously easy to hex him.

She catches his stiff body before it can fall, and rests him on the floor carefully. His eyes are moving wildly, and shock is the predominant emotion.

"I'm sorry, I really am," she says once again, before dragging him into his room. She hoists him onto his bed, before yanking out a few strands of his hair.

With the long black hair in her hand, she rushes to her room next door to get the vial of Polyjuice. There's enough to last the next ten hours, and the entire potion is in a bottomless hipflask.

She drops the strands in as she rushes back to Sirius' room. She can feel his eyes on her as she moves across the room towards his wardrobe. She yanks it open and pulls out his blue Auror robes, and only then looks down to the flask she's holding in her left hand.

The potion's turned a bright silver, much like the metal mercury.

She catches his furious gaze as she lifts the flask to her mouth and gulps down two mouthfuls. As soon as the transformation starts, she closes the flask and sets it on his desk, focussing on getting her clothes off.

She casts away her holster, the robes and the shirt and pyjamas she was wearing inside, standing in her knickers and bra, just as the potion's effects begin to kick in. The ground starts swaying as she shoots up into the air. It's painful, to say the least.

She hurries to his wardrobe and pulls out a pair of boxers, as the bra-strap starts cutting into her chest. She'd never realised what a broad chest Sirius had.

To spare him some dignity, she closes her eyes as she removes her own knickers, replacing them with his boxers. She tosses her bra away, and immediately pulls on his Auror uniform, buttoning the shirt on and fastening the trousers, before shrugging the blue robes on top.

She then rushes to his bed and pulls off his watch, tossing her shoulder length hair backward. His eyes scream at her, like they're threatening to Crucio her. She knows she deserves it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she keeps repeating, as she ties the watch onto her left wrist, placing a charm on it to remind her hourly to take the potion. She then Accios another invisible holster from his wardrobe, tying it around her arm, before pulling out his wand roughly from his holster.

The wood heats up under her touch, but she ignores the jolt of pain, securing it into the holster on her hand.

She puts her hands on him and runs it up and down, searching for the identity tag that marks him as an Auror. Remus had specifically sent her a reminder to take the tag via owl earlier this morning.

She finds it attached to the belt loop of his trousers and unclasps it, clasping it onto her waist instead. She pulls out her wand from the holster which is on the floor, and casts an _Incarcerous_ on him.

She moves towards the upper part of his torso, and leans towards his face, looking into his eyes.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Hurt.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Hurt.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Hurt.

It's like his eyes are yelling out his emotions to her.

"I'm so sorry, love. It's all for you. I just want to protect you," she says, before placing a kiss on his forehead.

She hurries to the desk, grabs the flask, and leaves without looking back.

It's only when she's on her way downstairs to tell Twigsy to keep an eye on the real Sirius and not let him out and to look after Harry for the entire day that she realises how odd it must have been for Sirius. A person with his own face kissing his forehead!

Bella feels stupid. And guilty. And awful. But she also feels excited. And thrilled.

She thinks she might be bipolar.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella adjusts her collar, trying to look as casual as Sirius usually does. She fails miserably. She raises a muscular arm and scratches her neck.

"Stop fidgeting," hisses Remus, as the two of them walk towards the Auror department, having stepped out of the lift.

"What if someone figures out I'm not Sirius?" she mutters as two men in the pinkish purplish robes walk by, serious expressions on their face. One of them nods at her, and she nods back, despite not knowing who it is.

"You even smell like Sirius. Polyjuice doesn't mask a person's scent," says Remus, looking at her shrewdly.

She feels her face flaming as she mutters under her breath, "Maybe Snape is just an expert potioneer."

"I thought you said you asked him to get it from his not-so-legal contacts."

"For all we know, this may have been a pre-made batch," she replies, her face not back to feeling normal.

They've reached the end of the corridor, and as they turn to the right, Bella sees the golden plaque that proclaims it to be the entrance to the Auror Department.

"I feel awful," she complains, but Remus shakes his head and whispers in a low voice.

"It was either this or letting him go to Azkaban for his entire lifetime. This was for the best," he says, patting her shoulder gently. And then, a smile graces his face, as he says, "You walk like such a girl, Sirius."

As much as she doesn't want to, her lips quirk slightly upwards.

Twenty minutes later, she finds herself with the other Aurors who are also part of the guard. They are being addressed to by Moody. It's so wonderful to see him in his one-eyed, one-legged glory, barking orders at all the other Aurors.

She finds it funny, the way a pink-haired Auror jumps when Moody screams 'constant vigilance' right into her ear. The girl reminds her of Tonks, with how pink her hair is.

They all move to the room quietly, as a single group. She thinks she can feel Moody's magical eye staring at her, but she tries to act nonchalant. Apparently if she gets caught, she'll be sent to Azkaban for impersonating the heir of an ancient and noble house.

Bella's pretty sure Walburga will have fun sending her to prison.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella supposes that she's doing Sirius' job decently. Sure, she hasn't been paying much attention to the ongoing trial or listening to the various witness accounts, but that's because it's more interesting to observe the faces of the Wizengamot.

"Mr. Black," says Barty Crouch, Sr., and Bella turns her head to see if Orion Black is present. She remembers the man vaguely from a portrait at Grimmauld.

"Sirius," hisses the pink haired Auror next to her, grasping her arm and pulling her sleeve in a manner which can only be described as familiar. Bella narrows her eyes. Who is this bint to act so familiarly with _Sirius_?

"Mr. Black, please step up to the dais and answer the allegations the defendant has made against you," says Crouch in a clipped tone, as Bella meets Remus' eyes in a state of panic.

Dumbledore speaks up, "Claims that Sirius Black is an unregistered Animagus are irrelevant to the case."

"The last time a defendant made certain claims a few days ago, they turned out to be true. It's the duty of this court to serve justice to all those who deserve it," says Crouch, his eyes looking more vicious than ever.

Bella walks up to the stand, remembering to keep her shoulders squared. She shouldn't look guilty. She should look like the heir of a rich Pureblood household. And it'll be all right, she hasn't done anything wrong.

At least she needn't worry about the Polyjuice. She'd drunk some only five minutes back. So she's good on that front.

But damn, why are her palms sweating?

When she passes Pettigrew, who's been bound to his seat, he hisses at her. She shoots him a poisonous glare. Morgana, she detests him.

The second she steps onto the dais, she can feel magical suppressors kicking in. It's very different from the hearing she attended in the summer of 1995.

"For the purpose of official records, please clarify the following," says a bored looking witch who has a mole on her nose. Bella tries not to stare at it.

"Your name?"

"Sirius Orion Black," she says, her throat a little raspy on account of it being so dry. That's good, though. Because now she sounds all masculine.

"Date of birth?"

"November 3rd, 1959."

"Patron figure?"

"Morgan le Fey."

"Name of parents?"

"Walburga Black and Orion Black III"

"Occupation?"

"Auror for the British Ministry of Magic."

"You may proceed," she says to Crouch, still in that monotone of hers.

"Mr. Black, do you deny that you are an unregistered Animagus?"

"Yes, sir," Bella says trying to sound convincing.

"He's lying!" screeches Pettigrew, and the Auror standing behind him shoots a stinging spell at his neck, which makes him whimper.

Pathetic.

"Are you willing to take Veritaserum to attest to that?"

Oh shite, does Veritaserum nullify the effects of Polyjuice? Bella can't remember what happened in her Fourth Year. Did Crouch Jr. transform before he had had the Veritaserum or after?

It's too late now, and her memory is faulty. She decides to bluff.

"Yes, sir."

"Ahem, if I may, sir? People who are excellent Occlumens can block the effects of Veritaserum. And the Blacks are known for their proficiency with mind magicks."

Bella looks to her right and finds her least favourite DADA professor sitting there in robes of light pink, in the midst of the other genuine Wizengamot members who are dressed in magenta.

There's a phantom tingling that passes through Bella's right hand.

Bella meets Crouch's eyes to see it narrow and regard her suspiciously.

"If I may be allowed to interrupt, Judge Crouch, there is a spell which can determine a person's Animagus form, and whether they have tapped into it. I believe Amos Diggory must be familiar with the spell," says Dumbledore, and Bella can't help but feel grateful to the old man.

His eyes twinkle behind his half-moon glasses, and Bella has a feeling he knows that she isn't Sirius.

Bella decides that she probably has a very low attention span, because some time between catching Dumbledore's eye and looking over at Remus, who's sitting on a bench on the prosecutor's side, Amos Digorry has been brought up to the front and has been introduced to the court.

For a moment, he looks so much like Cedric that Bella feels her throat closing.

"The spell won't hurt, Black," he says, before waving his wand and casting a non-verbal spell.

Bella watches in awe as a shimmering panther (or is it a jaguar?) of the deepest black fur and shining green eyes stretches itself and walks around, within a bright silvery blue circle.

If the murmurs around are anything to go by, the Wizengamot members are equally intrigued by the illusion.

"Silence!" calls out Crouch.

"The animal inside is the potential Animagus form.. The circle around it, as you can all see, is unbroken. Which means the form has not been tapped into. If the circle were a bright red, it would mean the person has made unsuccessful attempts to tap into it. And if there is no such boundary, it means the person is an Animagus," explains Diggory.

"Sirius' Animagus is a dog, not a cheetah!" yells Pettigrew, as both the Aurors standing behind him cast spells on him simultaneously.

Bella isn't sure how Pettigrew managed to become an Animagus when he can't even tell the difference between a cheetah and a panther (or a jaguar), because really, how dumb can he be?

"And what was this spell you used? Why didn't you tell it out loud?" asks Umbridge in her nasal voice.

"Madam Umbridge, you have no authority to question the court directly. Please remain silent, lest you be charged with interference of court proceedings."

Bella tries and fails to hide a smirk. She finds the court stenographer who's typing on a magically suspended typewriter smirking as well.

"- Cannot be cast verbally, impossible to. Because the focal points during incantation are mental, not auditory -"

Diggory's explanation goes over her head. She tries to catch Dumbledore's eye, and when she does, she tilts her head towards Pettigrew. He catches her drift, because he nods his head.

Moments later, once she's been allowed to rejoin the guard standing by the entrance, Diggory casts the same spell on Pettigrew, and it's with satisfaction that she sees Umbridge sneer with disgust.

The hearing ends surprisingly soon after that, with the Wizengamot declaring Pettigrew to be guilty of killing twelve Muggles and one Auror.

Bella celebrates the victory by taking another swig of her hipflask.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

It's some two hours later, and Bella decides that she should call it a day and just go back home, because sitting in Sirius' cubicle is boring. She has no idea what to do with the case files in front of her.

She's on her way back from Moody's desk, having got his permission to leave home early, when someone pulls her into their cubicle.

It's the pink haired witch.

"Your Animagus looked so powerful, Sirius," the woman purrs, and her breath feels hot against Bella's face.

"Thanks," she says, trying to be polite, despite the fact that there's something about the witch that puts her off.

"You know, we should have that coffee date that we keep talking about," she says, her fingers lingering on Bella's muscular arm and Bella gulps painfully.

Sirius probably already hates her. There's nothing wrong in giving him one more reason to hate her.

"I know we've talked about coffee, but I've met someone now, and I think she could be the one. I think I'd like to settle down with her someday."

The Auror's mouth drops open in shock before she has the decency to apologise.

"I'm so sorry, Sirius. I didn't realise, umm, really, I didn't."

"Yeah, sorry about misleading you," says Bella not at all feeling sorry, before stepping out of the cubicle.

She grabs her robes from the chair and a few case files from the desk, before stepping out of the department.

She bumps into Dumbledore in the lift, and he invites her to Hogwarts to talk about certain 'issues'.

Bella gladly accepts the invitation, because deep down, she knows she's a coward who just wants to avoid a certain wizard.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

It feels so good to be home.

Helen can hear Twigsy giggling and she goes to the dining room to see that her house-elf is feeding Harry, even as he flicks his spoon of baby food at the wall.

"Mistress is back from Germany! Does she need anything?" asks Twigsy, sensing her presence and turning around to talk to her.

Harry doesn't like that Twigsy is no longer paying attention to him, because he bangs a fist onto the wood.

"Looks like Harry wants his dinner," says Helen, amused at the baby's antics. Would Bella have been this way under more normal circumstances?

"I'll have a bath and come down for some tea. Make some sandwiches to accompany that."

Twigsy nods her head vigorously, before returning to her task of feeding the child.

When she climbs to the second floor landing, she hears someone screaming to let them out, though the sound is muffled.

She cautiously opens Sirius Black's bedroom door to find a bright red bra on the floor, as well as other articles of clothing.

Helen knows that they belong to Bella, because she'd been the one who had done some much needed lingerie and innerwear shopping for her goddaughter.

"Oh good, let me out!"

She looks to her left and finds Black lying on his bed, completely bound.

"I knew that you and my goddaughter wanted to rip each others' clothes off, but I never thought you two would be into kinky stuff as well."

Black makes a noise that sounds like a rabbit caught in a blender, and Helen can't help but chuckle at it.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

§

* * *

 **AN:**

Liked it? Hated it? What are your thoughts on the kiss ( _kisses_ )? I'd just like to point out that the kiss wasn't supposed to be romantic and sweet. I wanted only one emotion to be prevalent – lust. So I hope I did it justice.

And if the OWLs seem a bit hurried, that's intentional as well. There's a reason why Helen's making Bella write her OWLs as soon as possible. The OWL timetable is included in the next chapter, so the dates should make more sense when you see that. :) I hope Bella's logic behind 'Plan B' sounds flimsy, because that's how I wanted it to be. I don't see Bella as an Auror, making sensible plans. What do you think?

'Rabbit caught _in_ a blender' was inspired by _Phineas and Ferb._ This is proof that I'm weird.

Here's an **important clarification** since many of you asked: There never was a Regulus in this thread. There was only an Auriga. Consider Auriga Black to be a gender-bent version of Regulus.

I haven't replied to your wonderful reviews yet, and I promise I'll do so in some time. Till then, thank you so much for your support. :)

* * *

 **Guest review replies:**

Thank you all for reviewing. :) Sienna, no, Remus and Helen will not be a couple. I never thought of them that way, and I still can't think of them that way. :3 Katherine, you got it! :) Emily, you mean Auriga, don't you? I hope you stick around for some more time - you'll be interested in what eventually happens. ;) Guest1, here's your update! :) Guest2, you made my day and I'm so glad you popped in a quick review. :D

Isabella, Harri Musumeci is absolutely gorgeous! Forget the black turtleneck, I found a pic of him in a towel, and needless to say, I melted. Thanks for sharing that. :D :* Candice, I hope you got to see that picture of him in a towel. He's removed photos from his Instagram page now, siiiigh. Eye candy! :D ;) NatNicole, Guest3, Guest4 and Guest5, thank you so much!

Once again, thanks a lot for reviewing. :)

* * *

As always, reviews are love. :) The next update will be by 31st August, 2016.


	12. Chapter 12

**Dedication:** Hey Elle Ryder, here's a super belated birthday present. :) I hope you had a wonderful birthday. ;)

 **Warnings:** Not fully edited. That is, less edited than usual.

 **Pairings:** Sirius/Fem!Harry. Severus/(?) (Just reiterating it.)

 **Disclaimer:** You know who owns what.

* * *

§

* * *

THREADS OF TIME

* * *

 _Chapter 12_

* * *

 **"It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend."**

~ William Blake ~

* * *

"He's still mad at me," grumbles Bella, lying on her bed haphazardly.

"I'd be mad at you too, duckie, if you'd done that to me," says her godmother calmly, from where she's leaning against the wall. Bella sniffs and turns away.

"I've apologised to him, but I honestly don't feel bad about what I did. Yes, I'm sorry that the timing was off, but I'm not sorry about what I did. I saved his arse!"

"Have you tried not apologising to him, then? Remus told me that it wasn't just you who was in on this. It was you _and_ him _and_ Dumbledore. And he's still talking to Remus, isn't he?"

Bella groans and covers her face with a pillow. She knows that the whole situation is much more awkward than what it would have been simply because of that kiss they shared under the mistletoe. More like _'those kisses'_.

"Should I give him his Yule gift?" she asks at long last, just as the part of the mattress next to her head sinks a little. Helen's now sitting right beside her. Bella can feel Helen's fingers on her scalp, as the blonde witch proceeds to run her fingers through her hair soothingly.

It's something that no one has ever done before, and Bella tries to not think too much why she feels so sadly happy.

"He'll get over it, duckie. Just leave his present in his room when he's not around. Now come on, Twigsy can make us hot chocolate, and then we can take Harry out to play in the snow."

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella sits in Helen's library a few days later, uncreasing the bit of parchment in her hand as she goes through it. She's just finished her Potions exam, and is thankful that she'll be getting a tiny break now.

.

OWL TIMETABLE (WINTER 1981)

Dec 14th (M) - Charms P/T

Dec 15th (T) - Transfiguration P/T

Dec 16th (W) - HOM T (Evening), Astronomy T (Afternoon) P (Night)

 _Break for Yule_

Dec 26th (Sa) - Defence P/T

Dec 28th (M) - Herbology P/T

Dec 29th (T) - Potions P/T

 _Break for New Year's_

Jan 4th (M) - CoMC P/T

Jan 5th (T) - Arithmancy T

Jan 6th (W) - Divination P/T

o

Please read the rules and regulations overleaf before appearing for the examination.

.

Bella stares at the last three dates despondently, not interested in studying any of the subjects mentioned there. Merlin knows she hates Divination. But Helen has forced her to write the examination.

And Arithmancy! Though she had taken it up in her Third Year, she'd quit it halfway through her Fourth. And hadn't Helen been horrified when she'd learnt how Bella dropped the subject to focus on the Triwizard Tournament... Why did she have to be so worried about Bella's academics?

Bella doesn't understand the necessity to write these stupid examinations in such a hurry – Helen only says it's needed for further training, but what's the fucking hurry? Why isn't anyone telling her to just enjoy life?

It's not like she's truly learning anything – these exams cater to her earning a certificate on paper, and nothing more. There is no actual point in writing them. Getting an OWL is not the same as having learnt that subject.

It's during moments like these that she misses her Sirius, her real Sirius. The one who was her godfather, whom she had most certainly not kissed on the lips.

Knowing that she's about to start crying, she decides to spend some time with her personal physical cheering charm, Harry. The toddler has a way of making her smile that no one else possesses or ever possessed.

After finding out from Twigsy where Harry is, Bella casts a warming charm on herself and almost runs down the icy path that connects the house to a magically warmed greenhouse.

It's only as she enters the place that she realises Sirius is there, scowling at her. Bella can feel her face flush.

Harry makes his presence known from behind the orchids by calling out, "La! Eer!"

It pleases her so much to hear him string together two words, even if it's to boss her around. So Bella faithfully turns around the table of orchids to find Harry sitting on some mud, drawing squiggles onto the floor.

He looks up and smiles at her brightly, which of course makes her bend down and give him a kiss on the nose. He wrinkles his nose and goes back to scribbling on the floor.

Now she understands why Sirius isn't sitting down; it's because there's soil on the floor, obviously fallen from one of the pots. But fuck it, she's not him. She doesn't care about her clothes. So she sits down on the floor opposite Harry, crossing her legs.

She starts playing with Harry, and her latest game is pretending to hide her face behind a pot of blue roses, when she notices that the dog Animagus must have slipped out sometime in the middle of her games with the baby.

Bella holds back a sigh and lifts the squirming toddler, seeing as it's getting dark outside. She casts a warming spell on the both of them, before returning to the mansion.

Sirius giving her the cold shoulder is not only hurtful, but also annoying. So in a moment of _very_ rational thinking, she decides to give him the silent treatment as well.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

The next day, Bella receives a letter addressed to her. From the handwriting on the envelope, she already knows who the writer is. After all, she _had_ pored over this person's Potions book rabidly once upon a time.

 _'Ms. Potter,_

 _There is something your mother once left in my possession. It rightfully belongs to you. Kindly meet with me at The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade on a day suitable to you._

 _Regards,_

 _Severus Snape.'_

Bella has very conflicting feelings about Snape, despite what she'd said the other day to Sirius. The mere fact that he loved Lily didn't redeem him of his other sins, such as joining the Death Eaters willingly. And even if _that_ was a consequence of James' bullying, didn't the question of inner morality and good come up?

And what about the Snape of her own thread? Just because she could forgive him for his misdeeds, just because he'd sacrificed his life, didn't mean she will forget how awful he was to her.

She pens a quick reply saying she can meet him on the 6th, at 6:00 pm, only to find that the Hogwarts school owl he'd used has already left the house. So she's forced to step out of her room and go to the balcony, where there's a perch for Hedwig. She sees the snowy white owl off with an owl treat, before turning to come back inside, when she pauses.

From her place on the balcony, she can see Sirius and Helen playing with Harry, and she feels forgotten, unwanted. They make such a pretty picture, Harry flying his broom excitedly and Sirius laughing with his head thrown back.

Bella feels invisible.

Almost as if he can sense her distress, Helen's eagle owl hops onto her shoulder and lovingly rubs his head onto her ear.

"Thanks, Rufus," she whispers quietly, feeding him some owl treats before making her way back into her room.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

 _"C'mon, we have to stay up!" says Ginny, pulling her off the bed._

 _"Mione, tell this girl to leave me alone," she grumbles, burying her face back into the pillow, single-handedly pulling her blankets around her._

 _"Fred and George have planned a party to celebrate Mr. Weasley being discharged. You really should get up."_

 _Everything goes quiet and Bella thinks they've both gone down, when the blanket is ripped from her just as someone forcefully pulls away her pillow._

 _It's to the sound of cheerful giggling that Bella tiredly gets off the bed, wondering why the twins couldn't have planned the party for a more normal time, even if 'turn-of-the-year' parties are to celebrated at midnight._

 _._

It's with a sense of déjà vu that Bella gets up tiredly, finding Helen peering closely at her face. In the semi-darkness, the other woman's usually tawny eyes seem to have purplish flecks, and it just feels creepy.

"What?" she asks Helen groggily.

"The flower's about to bloom, come on!" she says, pulling Bella out of her bed.

"What flower?"

"Take your camera and come. _Fast_ ," urges the older witch.

Bella pulls on a bathrobe and picks up her wand and camera and goes outside to find Helen standing with Harry. He's wide awake, though a glance at the mantelpiece clock says that it's two in the morning.

"What's this, Helen? Why is Harry up?"

"We'll talk as we go upstairs," she says, leading the way. Bella trudges up slowly, waiting for her godmother to start explaining.

Surprisingly, when Helen starts talking, she can't seem to stop. She talks, and talks, and talks, and Bella thinks the other woman needs to take a breath.

"As I already told you, your mother and I were close friends, and she once told me that she had a classmate who owned a rare plant that bloomed once in twelve years. Lily got to see the plant bloom once when she was in Hogwarts, and she so badly wanted to see it bloom, just once again. She wanted to have it in the living room at Godric's Hollow.

"We both knew that she didn't have another twelve years to live, and I suppose I could have bought her a plant that would have bloomed the next year or so, but there were other more important things to occupy her mind, and she forgot about that fancy of hers. But I didn't forget, not really. I guess it was there at the back of my mind.

"When I was in Germany earlier this month, I helped out a Herbologist and his wife. They are specialists who grow plants available in tropical countries. They were ever so grateful that when I asked for this plant – which I learnt from them is called _Neelakurinji_ – they very kindly just gave it to me. And according to my Arithmancy calculations, it's due to bloom tonight, within the hour."

"Okay," says Bella, because there really is nothing else left to say. The name sounds foreign to her, but most magical names have roots in other languages, so she lets it slide. She takes Harry from Helen, setting the camera on the floor, letting her baby brother nuzzle himself in her arms.

The sound of the camera flashing startles Bella, and she turns to her right to see that Helen has taken a picture of the two of them.

"Now smile," she insists, and Bella does so tiredly, pointing at the camera so that Harry would look in that direction.

Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later, she watches the purple flower of the _Neelakurinji_ plant bloom.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

It's some time later – Bella doesn't know how long it is, but going by how much the moon has moved, she reckons it's a few hours.

"You still haven't fallen asleep?" asks Helen, and Bella shifts on the blanket to face her godmother without disturbing Harry, who's fast asleep in her arms.

"I can't," she says simply, before going back to staring at Harry's face.

"We finally have time to talk," says the other witch, and Bella looks up again, to see the blonde shrug her shoulders nonchalantly.

"Talk about what?" she asks. She isn't the best conversationalist at half five in the morning.

"What about all those million questions you keep asking, which I keep evading?" she asks, a trace of a smile on her face.

Bella doesn't know what to say. "Uh, I have no idea where to start," she says at long last, just as she realises that she's gotten the question about telescope lenses in her Astronomy paper wrong.

Staring at the telescope situated farther away prompts her into realising that the focal length she got as the answer for question 32(b) is wrong. She didn't consider that the light source was at infinite distance.

"Sorry, what?" she asks, when she sees Helen looking at her expectantly, as though waiting for a reply.

"Maybe you can start with the first question on your list?" repeats Helen, and it takes a moment for Bella to actually understand the question.

" _List?_ You mean the list I made for my private use?" she shrieks, a bit too much like Petunia, causing Harry to turn in her arms.

"You really shouldn't leave your things lying around, then," says Helen with a hint of a smirk on her face, and Bella resists the childish urge to smash a decorative rock onto Helen's face.

"I value my privacy, you know?" she says curtly.

"Well, duckie. That list is really long. Don't you want to get started?" she asks, completely ignoring what Bella has said.

"Okay, why are you forcing me to write the OWLs right now? You didn't even give me a say in the matter. You don't know anything about my past, and it's not right of you to impose your wishes on me," Bella says sharply, and in response, Helen's eyebrows just shoot up coolly.

"You've had that on your mind since November, haven't you?" she asks, a slightly smug smile gracing her pixie-like features. "An OWL certificate is the most basic prerequisite for a witch or a wizard to start their affinity training. And before you ask," she says, seeing that Bella's about to interrupt, "It's because each and every person who wishes to receive professional training for their affinity has to register themselves with the BAA - The Board of Affinity and Arts – and the board stupidly demands an OWL certificate."

"But what's the hurry?"

"It's important to start things on specific days – it's good luck. Usually the winter examinations get over a little before Yule, so that people can start their training on the solstice. The correction is swift and the certificates are sent to the BAA directly if the student places a prior request. So the student and the chosen mentor need to visit the BAA, whose headquarters are in Scotland, by the way, and officially register."

"And what if a person starts training without registering or before registering?"

"Once a person starts apprenticing, they'll be given special insignias to wear on their sleeves. The colour changes as the level of proficiency increases. And the BAA issues them. If a person has already started training, the insignia won't remain a dull black when the person wears it – dull black means zero, or very basic knowledge. If that happens, the BAA will Obliviate the person's lessons, and place the mentor under probation."

"But that makes no sense! What if someone doesn't register at all?"

"Then they can't say they've been trained in their affinity, can they? They can't use it in their résumé, they can't offer help with or advice on something they're good at, they can't write a book on their discoveries, they can't offer to mentor another person – life would become hard."

"But why maintain such close tabs on everyone at all?" asks Bella, still not sure why the wizards and witches of this thread have so many weird rules that seem to serve no purpose.

"That's something you'll learn eventually, Bella. I can't tell you." When she sees the expression on Bella's face, she adds, "I'm bound by my oath to the BAA."

"You still haven't told me why you're in a hurry."

"Your awakening," she says slowly, as she stares at Bella intently, "Is supposed to change things. Change things for the better. And there are people out there who're suffering. I don't want to keep them from getting the help they need."

Bella processes what she's just heard for a moment, before opening her mouth to speak. But Helen beats her to it.

"I need to leave now, duckie. I have a Portkey to Romania in an hour," she says, looking down at her watch before shrugging her shoulders in an apologetic manner. Her tone, though, doesn't sound apologetic in the least.

"What for?"

"I'll tell you when the time's right," she says, before getting up swiftly and striding out of the garden-observatory-whatever.

Bella looks down at the face of the sleeping baby in her arms, and moves a hand to smoothen a tuft of Harry's hair which refuses to sit down. She does the action without thinking – her thoughts are occupied with what Helen had said, and Bella vaguely feels that her godmother is being obtuse on purpose.

Suddenly there are footsteps behind her, and a millisecond after she catches sight of Helen, she's pulled into a tight hug by Helen.

"You didn't think I'd leave without telling my goddaughter goodbye, did you?" she asks, before kissing Bella's forehead. It reminds her of Tonks – Tonks used to kiss her that way, and Bella swallows heavily.

Helen draws back when Harry turns and makes a disgruntled noise, and smiles at the boy, before reaching out and pinching Bella's cheeks.

"Now make nice with Black before your next exam, okay? And I'll be back on the 4th, so we can revise Arithmancy. I've instructed Twigsy to remind you to drink your daily health potion, so be a good girl and drink them up on time."

Bella scowls at the other witch, who chuckles.

"Don't be like that, my baby duckie," she says in a patronising voice.

"Fine, happy new year," says Bella churlishly.

"Happy new year to you too, darling," Helen says, before tapping Bella on the nose. For some unknown reason, the action makes Bella smile.

"Travel safe," she wishes Helen sincerely.

"I will," replies Helen.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella wakes up when she feels small hands pattering against her face. Sleepily, she opens her eyes to see than Harry is up next to her. She can't help the smile that breaks out on her face.

"Hi Harry," she tells him gently, as he continues tapping her face.

"La Bella," he says, and Bella's smile turns into a broad grin.

"Oh sweetheart," she coos, as she picks him while still lying down. She holds him up in the air, parallel to her, smiling indulgently as Harry shrieks happily. She thinks there's no better way to start the new year.

"Don't hold him so precariously," comes a cold voice from the doorway, and Bella almost drops Harry.

"So you're talking to me now?" she says tonelessly, still holding Harry up.

"I told you to not hold him like that," Sirius says harshly, striding into her room towards her bed. He tries to take Harry away from her, but she grips her brother tighter, not letting go. She's stubborn. She will not bow down to anyone else.

"Give him to me!"

"What's your problem, leave us alone!"

In a matter of moments, there's a mini tug of war, with Harry caught between them, but Bella loosens her grip the second Harry cries out of pain. It seems like Sirius decides to loosen his grip as well, because Harry falls down on her chest, before he begins to bawl.

"Look what you did!" Bella says loudly, as she sits up, clutching Harry to her chest, trying to soothe the baby.

"I told you not to hold him that way," growls Sirius, as he sits down next to her. He tries to take Harry from her, but the boy buries his face further into Bella's t-shirt.

"Shh, it's okay," Bella tries soothing him, in vain. For some reason, the imprint isn't working its magic, and she doesn't know why.

It's finally Sirius who manages to calm the baby down, by transfiguring his nose to look like a clown's. Harry does stop crying, but his lips still wobble like he's a hat's drop away from crying again.

Sirius turns himself into Padfoot and playfully licks at Harry's face till Bella's brother starts giggling again, playing with the large black dog beside them. Bella watches them play, her heart a little heavy, till Padfoot suddenly looks up at her and nudges her hand with his nose.

Bella scratches him between his ears, and watches with a smile as Harry makes his intentions of wanting to climb onto the dog's back clear. When Padfoot gives his consent, she helps Harry get the piggyback (doggy-back) ride he'd wanted, all the while following the pair barefoot.

She keeps her wand ready, in case Harry falls off, but Padfoot is careful, and Harry never falls.

When they're done with the ride and Harry's been safely deposited onto the floor of his nursery, Bella bends down and gives the dog an affectionate kiss on its nose. The dog doesn't react, but he continues wagging his tail.

She wonders why things between her and Sirius can't be as simple as the things between her and Padfoot.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella is too keyed up from her Arithmancy exam to be able to nap properly. She has to 'study' for Divination tomorrow, but fuck that. She doesn't even know _why_ she chose that lame subject in this thread.

So she retreats to the library, where there's a nice long table to sit and work comfortably at, and does what most human beings do every new year – she makes a list of her new year's resolutions.

Somewhere in the middle of making her resolutions, she finds herself blinking quite a few times, the warmth from the fire lulling her. And then she's out like a candle in the wind.

When she wakes up a little while later, she finds that night has set in, and the fire in the fireplace has gone down. There are only a few embers burning eerily in the darkness.

As the last dredges of sleep leave her mind, she realises with horror that she hasn't started studying for Divination yet. A glimpse at her wristwatch doesn't help, it's too dark. She finds her wand on the chair next to her and whoa – it's seven already!

She has her exam in fifteen hours. And she's not even sure if she wants to study the subject.

"Oh good, madam is finally awake! I can light up the library and stoke the fire!" exclaims a voice from somewhere in the doorway, and Bella recognises it to be Rafal, the house-elf in charge of the library.

"Hello Rafal," she calls out, her voice thick from sleep.

"Mistress Helen asked me to tell Madam Bella that she should eat when she gets up, and that Twigsy has made rice pudding specially for madam," he says, as he switches on the lights – Bella still finds it funny that there are switches used for the lights, when the bulbs don't run on electricity – they simply hold an enchanted flame inside.

Bella's grogginess leaves her when she sees the Yule present she'd left for Sirius in his room a couple of days back sitting in front of her. The gift hasn't even be opened yet, and Bella squashes down the stab of anger that she feels.

The package, still in its clean wrappings, mocks her, as it sits there inconspicuously in front of her.

When she goes to her bedroom to freshen herself up a little, she plants the package in the lowermost drawer, where she keeps the socks that she doesn't like.

Bella had offered Sirius an olive branch, and he'd sent it back to her, broken into twigs and leaves.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Less than twenty-four hours later, Bella finds herself entering The Three Brroomsticks a little warily. There's a much younger Rosmerta, just in her twenties, serving people drinks.

She's never seen Rosmerta wear such a bright shade of lipstick, but then it's just the early eighties, and people probably wore stuff like that back then in her thread as well.

Bella awkwardly stands in the middle of the doorway and tries to find Snape, only to be asked to move aside rather rudely by some fellow in a large felt fedora that covers his face.

She scowls and resumes her search, till she finds Snape sitting at the farthest table, at a place where there isn't much light. He has a sullen expression on his seemingly jaundiced face, and has an aura which seems to be sucking in the scanty light that falls around him. He's already started drinking, she notices.

"Severus Snape?" she asks, when she approaches the table. He looks up at her, eyeing her warily, his hands nursing a glass of Firewhisky.

"Ms. Potter?" he asks, his voice breaking. Bella's never heard his voice sound this way, even when he was dying in her thread. It's such a sharp contrast to the dulcet soft tenor he used to adopt to terrorise the students.

"That's me," she says, pulling out the chair opposite to him, before she sits down.

There are a few moments of awkward silence, Bella assuming that he'd start the conversation, till she finally decides to open her mouth and get it over with. She isn't very good with people, let alone people she hated throughout her schooling, even if it was in a parallel dimension.

"Thank you for the prompt delivery of Polyjuice," she says, and Snape takes a sip of his drink, staring into the bottom of the glass, before looking up and nodding curtly.

"Was it your own brewing?"

"Yes," he answers, and she thinks a monosyllabic answer is an improvement over a nonverbal one.

"Well, thanks," she finishes, not knowing what else to say.

"Are you really Lily's daughter?" he asks at long last.

"Mmhmm," Bella replies, as she takes a sip of the Butterbeer Rosmerta had provided her with just moments before.

"Pardon my asking, but are you Dark?"

"Considerably so," she answers.

"Thank you," he says, and his voice breaks again, "For allowing me to attend Lily's funeral. You have no idea how much it means to me." He wears an expression of woe, but a voice in her head screams that this is the man who leaked the prophecy.

"That wasn't me – Lily wanted you there. And I _do_ have an idea as to what it meant to you," she replies, and she has a feeling her tone is colder than necessary.

He looks at her questioningly, but she ignores it, opting to finish her mug at one go. When she's done, she places it gently on the table, though she pictures herself to be slamming it forcefully onto the tabletop instead, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

"You said you had something for me?" she prompts, tired all of a sudden. She wants to go home and crash. She's dead sleepy, and the Re-Vitalix potions at work in her bloodstream tell her it's time to sleep.

"Ah, yes," he says, before taking a mouldy looking velvet box from his inner pocket.

Bella prays to Merlin, Morgana and every other deity out there that he isn't going to propose to her. According to the history textbooks she'd studied from, this thread has had a lot of spontaneous proposals based on magical signatures. Bella prays this isn't one of them.

"This belonged to your mother," he says, and pushes it across the table to her.

Bella gingerly picks up the box, expecting it to fall apart at any minute, and opens it. It's a fairly large pendant of a butterfly – its blue crystals shining eerily in the dim light – and a chain that has paint peeling from it.

She's still looking at it, when Snape continues speaking. The most she's heard him speak where he hasn't insulted her or her father, in fact.

"It belonged to your mother. She gave it to me the day before we left for Hogwarts for the first time – your mother and I were childhood friends, you see – and she asked me to keep it safe. She didn't know about the customs that witches and wizards followed. She wanted something old and blue, something she could borrow, for her wedding. She asked me to keep it safe, so that she could borrow it from me before her wedding," he says, and there's a pang inside Bella, as she runs her finger over the pendant.

An eleven year old Lily had worn it; had hoped for a bright and happy future. An eleven year old Lily had dreamt about a wedding, and planned for it the way a child could.

Her mother had once worn it, and now, Bella is holding it.

"Something old, something new. Something borrowed, something blue," she whispers quietly, looking up to meet Snape's obsidian eyes. There's a moment of understanding that passes between them.

She stays for a few more drinks, awkwardness forgotten, as night falls outside, and alcohol fuels her being.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Sirius glares at the wand that rests on his left palm. He rotates it to face a different direction, all without taking a break from glaring at it.

"Point me," he growls irritably, for the eighth time that day. His wand once again spins and points towards Is–Potter's room, much to his annoyance. He scowls at the piece of wood, before walking towards her door slowly.

His wand can't have failed him, he decides. The stupid bint must have taken his motorcycle's keys – there's no other reason for his wand to point to her room.

He warily opens the door which has been left partly open, not sure if he wants to talk to her at all. He still hasn't forgiven her for manipulating him two weeks back.

But it's hard to stay angry at her when she throws those hurt looks of hers, and when Remus insists on repeating the importance of having been lied to – that he's essentially not in Azkaban because of Isobel's harebrained plan, and how the Animagus test had been a narrow miss.

And if anything is clear, it's that Harry will choose her over him in a heartbeat – there's no contest. Sirius wants to believe that it's because of the imprint, but he's not blind – he can see the genuine bond the two have formed and he can't help how he feels – he'd been the only one who could elicit those special giggles of Harry's, and now he's not the only one.

He feels replaced – he's not the one Harry loves most after his parents, it's Isobel.

The door creaks slightly, bringing him out of his musings. In the faint moonlight that streams in through the window, he remembers that it's the full moon in three days – it's hard being the only Marauder left to help Moony.

The figure on the bed tosses again, and in the silvery moonlight, he can see the curtain of black hair spayed over the white of the pillows.

"Point me," he whispers, all the time watching Isobel as she breathes shallowly.

His wand spins slightly, pointing to the large chest of draws to his left. He has no idea where his key could be – it's a large chest – when it strikes him that all he has to do is Accio it.

So he opens all the drawers, wincing as the one in the middle makes a grating noise as it's opened. He flashes a quick look at the bed to see that Isobel seems to have moved once again, but returns his attention to the chest.

He's about to cast the summoning spell, when the figure on the bed whimpers. Sighing, he shuts the drawer, keeping an eye on the sleeping form that's tangled up uncomfortably in sheets.

Sirius approaches the bed as quietly as possible, her distressed movements making it clear that she's suffering from some kind of nightmare. The Muggles have a term for it – PTSD.

He thinks Flamel was right in a way to keep the teenager busy with OWLs. As far as he can remember, Isobel didn't have any episodes in the time she was filling her head with academic trivia.

The moonlight bounces off her face, he notices, just as he realises that there are tears glinting, making a path from the corner of her eyes to her pillow. Sirius hates the way he finds those pearl-like tears intriguing – he should be more compassionate; he shouldn't be feeling curious.

Sirius sits down on her bed gingerly, brushing her hair off her sticky forehead. He tries to fix her blanket and sheets, even as she twists, speaking incoherent things every now and then.

In the end, he resorts to casting a cooling charm on her blankets and on her – it's impossible to try to calm her manually.

"Cedric," she mumbles once, and he wonders for a moment if this is someone she loved back in her own time. Maybe this Cedric was a best friend, maybe he was a lover, maybe he was an enemy – Sirius realises there's so much he doesn't know about her.

And knowledge is power, as his father always says.

He ends up staying the night in her room, smoothing her hair and trying to soothe her, waiting for her to start sleeping comfortably. She doesn't fall into a restful sleep till dawn is about to break, but he's okay with that.

He owes Lily and James so much. And as much as he hates to admit it, he knows he owes Isobel at least some gratitude, even if he doesn't owe her an apology.

Sitting up for a few hours for her, whether she knows it or not, is the best way he can repay her, Sirius decides.

He doesn't wipe those tears of hers away, perversely fascinated by how they roll up her face, how they stick to strands of her hair like dew drops – he watches.

And when the sun breaks out, he closes her curtains, and places one last cooling charm on her forehead, before letting himself out quietly.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

It's been a week since her exams got over, and Bella finds that her nightmares are back with a bang. And some sick masochistic streak in her prompts her to not drink Dreamless Sleep.

And that's why she's up right now, lying in the silvery light coming in through the window. She finds it hard to sleep. It's like her body is rejecting the very concept of sleep, just so she won't have to face Hermione and Ron again.

She's lying down on her bed, dressed fully, her boots alone off. She'd gone hiking through the woods behind the manor, in an effort to tire herself enough to fall asleep – but to no avail.

But she definitely had had fun with Harry, even stumbling across a frozen brook, which had fascinated her brother just as much as it had fascinated her. She'd wanted to explore beyond the brook, but Harry had refused to budge.

And then she'd taught (tried to teach) him to make snow angels, just the way Ron had taught her back in her First Year, but of course, she'd cast and recast warming spells on Harry, so as to not risk him catching pneumonia.

It's with a smile that she continues toying with the butterfly pendant – a habit she's gotten into ever since she started wearing it – wondering what she can do next with Harry. Once summer sets in, she can take him to the seaside, take him to the beach – something she's personally wanted to do her entire life, and no, the stay at Shell Cottage doesn't count. And maybe before that, she could teach him to sing nursery rhymes, just to improve his vocabulary?

Bella pulls the pendant, feeling the chain strain against her neck. She'd replaced the cheap metal chain with a proper, strong platinum one the day after Snape had given it to her, just so she could wear it all the time. It feels like she has a part of Lily with her, and she wonders if her mother, from her own thread, had entrusted Snape with anything like this. And if yes, why didn't he show it to her in those memories he gave her towards the end of his life?

Bella's already open door swings further open, and Bella stills herself, a moment away from reaching out for her wand in its holster.

The dark figure opens the drawers of her chest slowly, taking special care with her middle drawer, which she knows creaks when opened too fast – this implies that the figure is well acquainted with the furniture in her room, disturbingly so.

The figure tosses his head, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he successfully opens all of them. Bella now knows for sure who it is, having no doubt about the person's identity.

"Accio keys," whispers a hoarse voice, not even once turning to check if she's awake or sleeping. Bella considers it sloppy on his part.

Just as a package whizzes towards him from the lower drawer, she reaches out and turns on the bedroom lamp.

Sirius whirls around, the packet clutched tightly in his hand just as she speaks up.

"What are you doing?"

He gapes at her, as though he hadn't factored in her being awake, so she sits up on her bed, pulling at her cardigan which she'd never gotten around to removing.

"I asked you what you were doing here," she repeats, her voice a little cold.

"I was looking for my keys. My bike's keys."

"Oh," she says, because it hadn't struck her that she hadn't returned his keys to him – but to be fair, it had been _him_ who'd returned the Yule present without even opening it. If he'd opened it, he'd have known.

"Uh, is it in this?" he asks, holding up the wrapped parcel, shaking it a little.

"Why don't you open it and find out?" she says, not because she's being rude, but because she wants him to open the present and see it – that's her way of apologising.

With fingers that seem to tremble, Sirius rips open the paper, before opening the wooden box inside slowly.

Bella holds her breath.

"Wow," he says softly, taking out the keychain she'd had specially made for him – the keychain to which his motorcycle's keys are attached.

"Turn it over," she says, and watches, biting her lip, as he turns over the silver engraving of a stag, wolf and a dog to read the script she'd had put there.

"Moony, Padfoot and Prongs forever," he mouths silently as he reads it, and when he looks up, there's this strange emotion glinting in his eyes and Bella feels – no, thinks – she's been forgiven.

"Would you like to come for a ride with me?" he asks in a voice that's quiet, in a voice that doesn't sound like his.

"Right now?"

He nods his head after a moment and Bella thinks she might cry out of relief.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

§

* * *

 **End notes:**

(1) The flower mentioned in this chapter really does exist. It's scientific name is _strobilanthes kunthiana_. It blooms once in twelve years and is found in certain parts of the world. Something for you to think on: Why couldn't have Lily kept this flower in a time pocket and watched it bloom once more, before she died?

(2) The BAA sounds like the bleat of a lamb, because, well, I think the witches and wizards of this thread are rather sheeplike, conforming to set of rigid rules all the time.

(3) You can think of Re-Vitalix as the Red Bull of the magical world.

* * *

 **Review Responses:**

Rachel: Not much "drama", as you can see. Just a lot of (immature) silent treatment. And I don't think Bella actually feels sorry. She probably just thinks it could have been handled a little differently. Thank you for reviewing. :)

Isabella: I concede, the artsy ones look intense and super edgy, but only 19 pictures? Really? C'mon Harri, post a few more. ;) Thanks for reading and reviewing. :)

* * *

 **AN:**

I initially wasn't too satisfied with this chapter but better late than never, eh? It's been sitting on my laptop for ages now, with me just feeling mehh.

Here's a question for you guys! Do you want to read the bike ride scene? I've already started the thirteenth chapter, and right now, it's set a few days later. But if enough of you say you want it, I'll add it in. *looks at the computer screen intently*

Next update on October 10th, 2016 – it's a guarantee, for sure. There's a special reason for that date. ;)

Reviews are love.


	13. Chapter 13

**Dedication:**

Dear noneofmyshipssail,

Sometimes I feel like I write this story only for you, to hear what you think. I wanted to give you something much _much_ better than this as your birthday present (I mean one made of my own hands, not just bought), but at the end of the day, this is all I could do. You know your _real_ gift will be ready when you're seventy and I'm sixty-nine, but that's incentive for both of us to live that long, right?

You have no idea how much you mean to me. College (and life, in general) would be unbearable without you, and I literally can't spend a day without talking to you. When I see something remotely interesting, you're the first person I wish to share it with. When I see something pumpkin spice related, I can only think about you. And when I see cheese, it's you that I can think of. (This is a compliment, even though you use it in a self-deprecating manner.)

I have the weirdest feeling this sounds like a love letter, but if it comes across that way, let it do so. Because love between friends is one of only forms of love I believe in, apart from familial love, and I'm so grateful that you're just there in my life. You're an incredible person and you're just so colourful and vivacious. You're pretty awesome and you're one of my best friends. (I don't think I've told you that before.)

I'm a quitter, and I don't do long term commitments, but one thing I can be very _very_ sure of is that our friendship is one that'll withstand time. We'll grow up a little more, earn some money, watch musicals at Broadway and West End, go to a Panic! concert, eat at a Michelin star restaurant, try some summer course at Cordon Bleu, successfully meet TH (you'll be the wing-woman) and be nasty to Skeleton's and Creep's kids (or maybe we'll be awesome godmothers, but whatever.) And also, remember, you're my designated cab-booker for when I ditch my hypothetical groom, so remember to keep your phone charged for then. Also, eventually, we'll adopt a couple of crocodiles just because we can. Talking real long-term, let's check into the same old-age home, so we can stalk a much older SU and judge all the other judgies together. Also, let's make the world record for a Snapstreak, okay?

How does that sound? Want to add anything to the list?

Anyway, as to your gift, let's just say it's bigger on the inside. It's so hard to write it, because I want it to be my very best. I want to put in my best for _you_. I love you. Thank you for being my friend. You've saved me in more ways than one.

Love,

gr8rockstarrox

P.S. Super belated happy birthday (even if this is more of a perfunctory greeting.)

...

 **Warnings:** Hot off the metaphorical typewriter, hence unedited.

 **Pairings:** Sirius/Fem!Harry.

 **Disclaimer:** What little I actually own has been financed by my parents. I really own nothing.

* * *

§

* * *

THREADS OF TIME

* * *

 _Chapter 13_

* * *

 **"Revenge is like a rolling stone, which, when a man hath forced up a hill, will return upon him with a greater violence, and break those bones whose sinews gave it motion."**

~ Jeremy Taylor ~

* * *

The house that Bella had seen, bathed in the light of the moon just beginning to wane, haunts her. When she closes her eyes, it's all she sees. If she puts pencil to paper, it's all she can draw.

Conveniently for Helen, and inconveniently for Bella, the former has disappeared without a word, and Twigsy and the others seem to be under strict orders not to divulge the Elemental's whereabouts, which frustrates Bella to no end.

But Bella is curious. She knows she has to make her way back to that house she saw; the need to explore runs in her blood. After all, she's a Gryffindor by blood.

And right now, with Sirius at his job, Remus catching up on sleep, Twigsy studiously avoiding her and Harry taking a nap, she's bored beyond measure. Her legs are literally twitching from her trying to sit in the same place – or maybe it's withdrawal from not drinking and relying on Re-Vitalix?

"Is madam all right?" comes the polite voice of Rafal, and Bella smiles at him grimly.

"Yes, yes I am. Could you get me a compass?"

"The instrument to draw circles or to point out directions?" he asks, thorough as ever, and Bella tries not to smile at it. Hermione would have liked Rafal, she thinks.

"Directions, Rafal. I'm going out for a walk in the woods and don't want to get lost."

"Right, madam," he tells her, bowing ridiculously low, before hurrying away.

Less than fifteen minutes later, she knots a scarf around her neck, having just taken out one of Sirius' leather jackets from the coat rack, and leaves the warmth of the house quietly.

She vaguely remembers Helen telling her something about the woods, but she disregards that nagging thought and walks out anyway.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

This is it, Bella thinks, as she rubs her gloved hands onto her eyes. There's a cold breeze blowing right into her face, which makes the parts of her face which are exposed sting. She was wrong to have thought that she could venture out without a warming spell.

But it's necessary that she have no magic on her, so she grits her teeth and walks forward.

What if Harry has woken up? Would the monitoring charm she's placed on his crib let Twigsy know he's up? Maybe she should head back.

She shakes her head and proceeds to take one more step forward, closer to the frozen brook that flows past the front of the building, separating the land into two.

Bella remembers that she hasn't contacted Molly Weasley at all – and it's something she wants to do desperately. She wants to pitch her business proposition, and see how the other witch will take it – she just doesn't want the Weasleys to grow up in poverty once again.

She thinks she hears a twig snap somewhere behind her, so she turns around, wary, her wand out.

But there are no fallen twigs, or branches, even near the trees behind her. There's only a blanket of snow, and the only footprints there are hers.

She shakes her head and turns back to proceed towards the house when it strikes her that she should probably contact Snape soon and start the procedure for the creation of Wolfsbane.

For a second, Bella gets the odd feeling that there's some barrier around the house trying to turn her away, not letting her cross the brook, so she grits her teeth and focuses on placing a foot on the solid surface of the brook.

That's the last thing she remembers doing.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Don't you feel hot, Bells?" asks Hermione.

Bella isn't sure how her friend's here – she's supposed to be dead.

"Uh, where am I?" she asks the bushy haired witch, who's sitting on a rock by the same brook she'd been earlier at – only that it seems to be spring, and the water is gurgling quite loudly as it flows past.

The sun seems to be an hour away from setting, casting the sky in orange and pinkish hues. The light makes Hermione's knee length slip of a white dress look almost golden.

"You're where you need to be, darling."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said," she says, seemingly distracted with what's in her hands – Bella looks down and sees that it's some flowers that she seems to be weaving together.

"Why are you still standing? Come, sit," she says, patting the space on the rock next to her, and Bella warily makes her way there, loosening her scarf and removing her mittens.

"What's that you're making?" she asks Hermione, the whole thing feeling surreal. But Hermione's there, she's really there – Bella can feel the warmth from the other girl's body – proving that she isn't some phantasm.

Or can delusions be convincing enough?

"Do you recognise these flowers, Bells?"

Bella stares at them long and hard, images falling away in her head, till she recognises it – it's the same flowers that Hermione had conjured at Godric's Hollow.

"Y-You put them on my parents' grave," she says, her voice choking.

Hermione looks up, her eyes shining with the wisdom of an old soul – very different from how her eyes had sparkled with curiosity when she was alive – and says, "Do you know what they stand for?"

"N-No."

"When you leave, look up white lilies, and you'll understand," she says, smiling serenely.

Bella takes a deep breath and wipes away the tears falling down her face. Hermione's turned her attention back to the flowers in her hands.

"So you're not telling me?" Bella asks, taking a deep breath.

"Nope," Hermione says, and continues in a way reminiscent of alive-Hermione, "If I tell you, how will you learn?"

Bella starts laughing maniacally at that, because it's funny. It's too funny to be true. After a while though, she falls silent, and watches silently as Hermione stitches the flowers together with a needle and some thread.

"You're close enough to get started, Bella," she says, without looking up.

"What do you mean? I-"

"Shh, don't interrupt me, look, I've ruined the design. But that's all right, I can start over."

'Uh huh."

"Who are you saving this time, Bells? Sirius, Remus, Teddy? Yourself, your baby self? Do you really want to save them?"

"Yes, I want to. So much, Mione, so much. Harry – you haven't met Harry. He's an adorable baby, and I want him to be happy. I love him."

"But have you grown too attached to do what you were meant to do? Have you forgotten your task?" she asks, finally looking up.

"I-I still remember, I just haven't had time to get started."

Hermione doesn't reply, but instead goes back to her work.

"Well, there's no time like the present to get started. And look! I'm done as well!"

"You think I should start hunting Horcruxes right away?" asks Bella a little doubtfully, because she'd been putting the thing off for a reason – she'd wanted to accumulate enough power and influence in this thread so that she could make things move along smoothly.

"I can't be telling you what it is you should be doing, but you've come to the right place Isobel. You've been touched by Death and deemed innocent. That's a gift – use what that gift tells you to find your answers.

"You've already stumbled upon what you need to get started. You've made great progress today. You've done well. But this is a different story. It starts differently and ends differently. It's a new beginning for a new end."

Bella looks closely at the face of her friend, observing how the skin is flawless, and how her eyes are more alive. Her hair shines, and if Hermione is indeed dead, Bella thinks Death offers a hell of a make-over.

"This is for you, by the way," Hermione says, holding the flower ornament up in the light. Bella can recognise what it is now.

"You remember?" she asks softly.

"Of course I do, darling."

The light around them begins to get brighter, and Bella stands up, feeling a tugging at the base of her navel.

"Looks like it's time for you to go. Take this," she says, holding the lilies out.

With a sense of déjà vu, Bella asks, "Is this real? Or is this in my head?" as the ground starts shaking and the very air starts vibrating.

"Of course it's in your head Bells, but that doesn't mean it isn't real, does it?" she says, winking charmingly.

Bella grabs hold of the corsage of white lilies, before embracing the darkness that clouds over her eyes.

"It starts differently, it will end differently," echoes through her head, the voice fading till all she hears is the ringing sound of her own blood in her ears.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

When Bella comes to, the first thing she hears is an overly sarcastic voice.

"Look who's back from the dead."

Bella closes her eyes shut tightly, but not before she takes in the familiar ceiling of her room.

"Harry's been worried about you, he kept trying to wake you up," says Sirius seriously, and Bella's eyes snap open.

"What?" she asks, sitting up.

She realises that she's dressed in a flimsy chemise, and even though nothing's revealed, she pulls her blankets up.

"What's going on?"

"You've been out for twenty-seven hours," he says caustically, but there's no fire in his eyes – he looks tired. In fact, he doesn't look like he's changed from his work clothes.

"Maybe I was just asleep," she protests, running her hands over her bare arms to get rid of the goosebumps.

"Twenty-seven hours after Twigsy found you. Merlin knows how long you were out there before – you could have died," he says, sounding partially angry, and Bella is taken aback.

"I have no clue what's going on," she says at long last.

"Are you familiar with hypothermia?' he asks caustically.

"Uh, no?"

"You went out there without any warmth, removed your fucking clothes and half froze to death conjuring flowers. You're lucky Twigsy found you when she did. Remus reckons you wouldn't have retained your fingers if she had dragged your arse back here even a moment later."

"Oh."

He just looks at her, and Bella feels like a small child. Once upon a time, she'd tried to do something foolish, and McGonagall had fixed her with a similar look; it's disappointment.

But wait, how did her clothes come off? Bella feels confused.

"Of course that's all you have to say," he says almost quietly.

"Why are you being so nasty to me? I don't even remember what happened!"

She sinks into the pillows that someone's set up for her, pinned as she is under his withering gaze.

"You take off on me for being irresponsible, but you're the fucking hypocrite – you're reckless and careless," he says, his voice steely.

"I'm not going to apologise for doing something that I don't even remember doing! I don't know how my clothes came off, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't have stepped out of the house at all!"

"And that's the thing isn't it? You never _do_ apologise."

He gets up forcefully, the chair recoiling from him as it hits the chest of drawers and topples.

"Have your fucking flowers," he says, picking up the corsage of lilies from her bedside table and flinging it at her.

It's probably all the Quidditch practice she's had, but she catches it and clutches it to her chest, as he walks out of the room, muttering, "I'll ask Twigsy to get you some food."

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Harry is unusually subdued, as Bella sits on the overstuffed settee, watching an episode of _A Fine Romance_. She's tried cheering him up, to no avail, and has now given up to watch her favourite actress, Judi Dench rule the TV screen.

Bella remembers sneaking out of Grimmauld Place with Sirius to watch GoldenEye, back in her own thread, and wonders wistfully if the Sirius of this thread will be willing to watch the movie with her when it hits the theatres in some fourteen years' time.

"I thought I'd find you here," comes the tired voice of Remus, and Bella turns her head to briefly acknowledge him before turning back to the show.

Remus is nice enough to start talking to her only when there's a commercial break right after Laura is sedated at the dentist's – Bella can't help but appreciate how thoughtful the other man is, as she turns to give him her full attention, adjusting Harry before settling into a more comfortable position.

Harry pinches Bella's thigh and continues scowling.

Remus chuckles at that before starting. "I've been doing some research into these Imprint bonds that people share at times. I'm not sure if my reasoning is right, but apparently, two Imprinted people, once they've made contact with each other, shield one another and rely on the other for magical protection.

"This means you and Harry depend on each other for magical support, and I reckon that when you were unconscious, or whatever it is that happened, Harry either felt vulnerable and open, or felt helpless, not being able to help you – but either way, being just a baby, he's reacting in the best way he knows how."

Bella can finally sort of understand what's been going on with her baby brother for the past few hours.

"So either he's mad at me, or he's mad at himself, right?"

Remus nods, and Bella scratches her head as she stretches her neck. There's a crick that she can't quite get rid of – when she'd complained to Twigsy about it, the house-elf had told her that she deserved it for lacking common sense.

"It should be easy to make-up then, right? If he's mad at himself, all I need to do is make him feel useful, and if it's the protection part, I'll just have to show him that I'll be around, eh?"

"Try reasoning that with a one year old," Remus says, not impolitely, and Bella throws her head back onto the cushion.

Harry pinches her arm, and she tries not to stoop to his level and pinch him back.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella smoothens Harry's unruly tuft of hair, and smiles briefly as he turns over in his sleep, clutching his blankie tightly in one scrunched up fist.

.

 _'Duckie,_

 _I feel so awful, knowing that you've been exploring the woods despite my asking you not to – but it's my fault. I should have guessed that you would be inquisitive._

 _I'm so sorry I'm not there right now. I'll be home as soon as possible. I love you so much. Take care._

 _Forever yours,_

 _Helen'_

 _._

Bella reads the letter, feeling conflicted. Helen's the only one who doesn't sound reprimanding. Remus had almost chastised her earlier, before seeing the look on her face and changing the topic. Twigsy and Rafal had ignored her and treated her like a small child the whole day. Harry was still exercising his own brand of 'punishment'.

And Sirius? Bella thinks she just can't catch a break with him. She feels she can label the months she's lived here by the fights she's had with Sirius. And it's tiring.

The only person to whom she means something – the only adult – is Helen, and Bella doesn't know how she feels about Helen. Sometimes she's a friend, and sometimes she feels like a parent – or what a parental figure must be like, and it leaves her confused.

It's a bit disconcerting, she decides, to have someone express affection so openly towards her, when she hasn't witnessed the slow building of said affection. But to be fair, Helen's looked after Bela for three years in the time-pocket – so Bella can't label Helen's affection as creepy.

Bella sighs and adjusts Harry's pillow, before resting back on her own. Her great plan to make Harry feel protected is to maintain physical proximity till their bond stabilises, but Bella isn't sure it's been working out.

Harry had been awfully stubborn and had refused to go to sleep. He'd been an absolute demon, in sharp contrast to the angel he seems right now, and Bella knows she loves him not despite being a brat, but because he _is_ a brat.

She folds the letter once and turns to place it on her bedside table, when the door opens slowly.

Sirius steps in and stares at her, and she stares back as well, because, well, there's nothing else to do. She's charmed bluebell-flames to burn in a mug, acting as a substitute night lamp for Harry, and in the shadows that the lamp casts, Sirius looks just weary.

"We really need to stop meeting like this," he whispers.

"You really need to stop sneaking into my room."

He grins at that, and he doesn't look as tired as he previously did. He looks more like the twenty-two year old he is.

"I see you're making Harry sleep next to you," he says casually, finally moving away from the doorframe and stepping inside.

"Just a theory Remus and I thought we could try."

"I almost had a heart attack when I didn't find him in his crib," Sirius says, stepping forward.

"You should give yourself more credit than that – you're really good at wards, I don't think anyone can simply come inside and take him," she offers, shrugging her shoulders without trying to disturb the alignment of her pillows.

"You're being... polite," he says slowly, voicing what Bella's been thinking as well.

"Only because you are, Sirius."

He lets out a long sigh of breath and awkwardly continues standing in the middle of the room.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" she asks, taking one of Harry's clenched fists in her comparatively humongous hands, and rubs circles onto it.

Sirius hums in agreement, and she turns her head to look at him.

"Why don't you sit here?" she asks, patting to the rest of the bed on the other side of Harry, wanting to put him out of his misery, as amusing as it is to see him stand cluelessly in the middle of her room.

After sitting down carefully and adjusting Harry's blankie – as if she hadn't done that just earlier – he says gruffly, "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For looking after Harry. For being there. I don't think I could do it by myself."

Bella doesn't reply for a while, thinking out various scenarios, before speaking, "I think you would have been a brilliant godfather, whether I were around or not – you don't give yourself enough credit for anything."

"The product of being brought up in a house where internal validation is seen as morally wrong," he says too quickly, too bitterly, and Bella's placed her free hand on his shoulder before she can think about it. She draws it away just as quickly though.

"I don't know if it counts, but I think you're pretty great in everything you do."

"No, it doesn't."

"It doesn't what?"

"It doesn't count."

"Why not?"

"Because you're just telling that to make me feel better. You're like James that way. You tell me things you think I want to hear just so I won't undervalue myself as James says– used to say."

Sirius goes quiet, and Bella wonders how long it will take for Sirius to completely stop referring to Jams and Lily in the present tense. Because every time he realises it's supposed to be past tense and not present, Bella thinks he loses a bit of him to the dark cloud that hangs around him most days.

"You know, in the other thread, you saw a lot of James in me. Maybe that's just who I am?" she says at long last.

"You're your own person, Isobel. I don't think I've ever met a witch quite like you."

When Bella shakes her head and smiles, he gives her a sidelong grin which makes him look boyish – as boyish as Sirius can ever be, and she feels her heart flutter.

Bella rests her head back onto her pillow and watches the light play across the ceiling in rhythmic patterns, as each individual flame flares up at a different tempo.

"The next time you want to do anything adventurous, just take a friend along, all right? Ask me, and even I'll come along to keep you out of trouble."

Bella nods her head, feeling her eyes droop even as she thinks of Sirius accompanying her everywhere, as a friend. It makes her feel pleasant and warm on the inside, she decides, as she struggles to keep her eyes open for longer.

"Siri?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we friends?"

"I thought we already were," he says reassuringly, and she thinks he takes her free hand in his, but she's too far gone into Morpheus' land to be sure.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

When Bella wakes up the next morning, she finds that her duvet's been wrapped tightly around her, as if someone's taken the pain to tuck her in, and she smiles at nothing in particular – these are things she could get used to.

Harry's curled into a ball against her side, and she puts her arm around him, surprised he hasn't woken up yet. He's the early riser, of the entire household.

She watches him as he slowly opens his eyes, rolls around, gets up and pulls her hair, before falling onto a fluffy pillow and feigning sleep.

Bella rolls her eyes at his antics, picking him up despite his many protests, and heads downstairs.

"You know you're a lousy actor, right, Harry?" she asks him in a baby voice.

He bops her on the nose in response.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Hey," she calls out to Sirius, as he's about to step out of the house.

"Isobel?"

"I have some work at the ministry, mind if I tag along?"

"Ah," he says, understanding colouring his voice. "That's why you're wearing formal robes."

"Eh, I want to be taken seriously."

"Come along," he says, holding out his hand, and Bella tries not to notice how warm his hand is against the small of her back as he guides her to the Apparation point outside the house. She thinks she's blushing, but it could also be because of the cold.

She feels him tap her shoulder with his wand and whirls around.

"What was that!"

"A warming spell," he says calmly, before gripping her arm tightly and Apparating them away, without giving her any warning.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Less than thirty minutes later, she finds herself being taking the lift to the lower-most levels, so that she can talk to a representative from the public liaison office of the DOM.

After all, the entire story concerning a baby Potter started with the prophecy, right? Or did it start with Tom Riddle himself? Either way, Bella thinks it's a good idea to check out the prophecy. She still hasn't checked out what lilies mean, but the prophecy has greater priority over flower meanings.

"I'm Meghan Kendricks, and I'm your assigned representative today. How may I help you?" asks the witch at whose table Bella is sitting, with a lazy drawl.

She's chewing what Bella thinks is gum, and with all those dreadlocks in her hair and her lackadaisical attitude, Bella thinks Meghan Kendricks is not really interested in being there.

"I'm Bella Potter and I'm here to enquire about any prophecies that might have been made?" asks Bella uncertainly, because the other female seems to be paying her no attention.

Bella clears her throat and tries again.

"I'd like to access something from the Department of Mysteries," she says loudly, so much so that the old woman sitting at the neighbouring desk turns around to give her a withering glare.

It takes everything Bella has to not tell that hag to mind her own fucking business.

"Now why would you want to get involved with those buggers?" she says, finally looking up from checking her nails which have been painted an unholy shade of fuchsia.

"There's a prophecy regarding my ward, and as is my right as his guardian, I'd like to be made aware of its contents, and would like to know how I should go about it."

The witch doesn't say anything, before tilting her head to one side and loudly snapping the gum.

"Let me get this straight. The prophecy is not about you, but about someone else. Why bother at all?"

Bella can feel her wand holster sitting on her arm snugly. It would be so easy to hex this representative into oblivion, she thinks, as she pastes on a fake smile.

"Because I love the baby boy who's in my care, and I don't want any harm to come to him," she says simply, figuring the truth would be easier to get across this numpty's thick skull than any diplomatic answers.

"True, true," says the other woman, shaking her head. "It's love which makes the world go 'round, innit? That's what I always tell Guy, but he doesn't think it's love. He thinks it's money and sex. I should leave him because he's useless anyway, but still, I tell him 'No, it's not–'"

A crisp voice cuts across, "You aren't bothering this poor witch about your problems with Guy, are you?"

Bella decides she could kiss the other woman who's saved her from listening to Meghan about her guy Guy. She turns around in the rickety chair to see that it's the blonde from the funeral, the one who'd been with the redheaded man.

"Of course not! You know how professional I am when it comes to this job!" she exclaims, before snapping her gum once again. Once upon a time, Bella had thought there was no one more obnoxious than Lavender Brown. Now, she stands corrected.

"I'm Marlene Prewett," starts the woman brightly, before petering out and just staring at Bella. "Are you Lily's daughter?" she asks softly.

Bella stands up immediately, because the woman's face seems to be crumpling.

"You can call me Bella," she says, reaching out just in case Marlene's about to fall or faint. But Marlene takes hold of Bella's hand unsteadily and shakes it slowly at first, then with vigour.

"Well, Bella," she says after taking in a couple of shaky breaths. "How can the Department of Mysteries help you?"

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella takes in the sight of the familiar castle with a lurch in her stomach. This was home, she thinks, as she walks up the unpaved path that leads from Hogsmeade to the Hogwarts campus.

"Ms. Potter," greets Professor Dumbledore, opening the gates.

"I didn't expect you to personally open the gates for me, Professor!" she exclaims, rubbing her palms together, pleasantly surprised.

"If you'd like me to sit in my room and undo the wards, I could do that the next time?" he asks, his eyes shining with joviality.

Bella smiles and watches in amusement as his beard flutters in the wind.

"I'm not so heartless as to want to trouble you and your rheumatoid knee, sir," she jokes back, as Dumbledore laughs out loud.

"Ah, those jokes on my age never get old," he says, and Bella shakes her head, taking in the familiar grounds, very sparsely populated by a few Hogwarts students who have nothing better to do inside.

"Professor?"

"Yes, my child?"

"I need to talk to you about the prophecy - the one that Snape heard - the one–"

"Say no more," he says, and instead of leading her into the castle, he leads her past Hagrid's hut towards the greenhouses. The few students they pass by give them curious looks.

"Why aren't we going to your room?" she asks, looking bewildered. But the greenhouse is toasty warm, and at the moment, she has nothing to complain about. Except maybe she might get mud on her formal robes, but what's a little dirt compared to the bureaucracy that she'll have to face with the Ministry to get the entire prophecy?

"I've learnt that certain portraits in my room have an unhealthy interest in anything concerning you and Harry," he says, and Bella rolls her eyes, knowing it's Walburga who's put Phineas Nigellus up to this.

"And we don't want this falling into the wrong ears, do we?" she says, more than asking, seating herself on one of the workbench stools.

Dumbledore copies her pose and sits upon a neighbouring stool.

"I went to the Ministry today," she starts.

"And?"

"And I tried to get the prophecy from the DOM."

"I'm assuming you weren't fruitful?" he asks, his snow-white eyebrows raised.

"Nope. I spoke to Marlene Prewett. She made me fill in a few forms."

"And she informed you about the red-tapism involved?"

Bella nods, grimacing.

"So are you here to ask me to speed up the process, or ask me for the prophecy?"

"I'd like your memory of the incident, that is, assuming, it was to you that Trelawney made the prophecy?"

"Yes," he nods sagely, her expression grave. "It was to me that she made the prophecy, and it was a part of it that Severus Snape, misguided young man that he was, heard."

" _Overheard_ ," she corrects him, and he purses his lips at that.

"Ah, technicalities," he says, and Bella is tempted to fling the pot of manure on the worktable next to her onto his stupid shiny purple robes.

"I'll give you the memory," he says, but Bella knows from his tone that he's not done – this is no case of simple giving. He expects something in return.

"I'll give you the memory, Bella, if you keep me in the loop. What you plan to do, why you're here, what it is you are going after."

"What do you mean?" she asks, and he fixes her under his penetrating stare – one that she's been subject to countless times before.

"Riddle made anchors, you told me on the first day. I've been doing some research - correct me if I'm wrong, but there is a chance that these anchors contained pieces of his soul?"

"Yessir," she says at one go, hoping that the lesser she speaks, the faster she'll be out of here with the memories, without having to make any false promises to the wizard.

"My condition is simple – I wish to help, regardless of whether I'm mentioned in the prophecy or not, I wish to be a part of the entire process."

He pauses, and Bella waits with bated breath.

"Sometimes, Bella, I wonder if I could have stopped the monster that Tom was to become if I'd shown him a different path," he says, his eyes distant. But Bella can't help but think about how evil Tom had been in the orphanage, even before meeting Dumbledore.

But she keeps quiet, and lets the Headmaster have his moment of something which seems similar to guilt to her.

"Remember you asked me when we met for tea why I seemed to believe you so readily on Halloween?"

Bella nods in response.

"This will explain things, the moment I saw you, I knew you were touched by Death," he says, his voice soft.

Thus saying, he waves his wand and draws out a silvery strand from his temple into a vial he's conjured slowly. He holds it out to her, but his eyes still have that vacant expression he'd got while talking about Riddle.

"Will you use me as your mentor and seek help from me?" he asks, his voice firm, in sharp contrast to the faraway look in his eyes.

"Of course, sir."

In her hurry to take the vial from him, Bella knocks over a pot of manure when she stands up. She hopes Twigsy will know how to get soil stains out of Acromantula silk.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Bella glares at the folded up newspaper in front of her, as if she can unearth the answers to the crossword if she glares at it long enough.

She's sitting in the cosy living room, with Sirius and Harry, and a raging fire in the fireside to keep her company. She has an eye on the grumpy baby, to ensure he doesn't get too close to the flames, as he plays on the rug with a set of blocks.

It's when she's casting one of these lazy looks around the room that she catches Sirius staring at her.

"What?" she says, taking the sugar quill she's been sucking on to one side of her mouth.

"Nothing?" he asks rather than says, but he continues staring at her, in particular her mouth, and that makes her feel self-conscious in a good way. The warmth is _definitely_ not from the fire, she decides, as she feels her face flushing.

"Sirius?"

"Are you doing the crossword?" he asks without any preamble.

"Uh, yes. Yeah," she replies.

"James used to bite his sugar quill when he was doing the crossword too," he says, his voice hoarse and Bella basks in the little glow that causes – to think that her father, maybe even her real one in her own thread, did something that she does makes her feel pinpricks of joy.

It makes her feel cherished, oddly.

However, that spark she feels inside feels put out when she sees Sirius' face, which looks pained. She thinks she can see unshed tears glistening in the light thrown by the flames.

"Are you crying?" she asks bluntly.

"No," he lies.

She leaves her newspaper on the armchair she's been occupying, and walks to where he's sitting, some seven feet from her.

"Don't cry," she says, putting her arms around his neck as she sits on him and hugs him.

"I'm not," he says again.

"You're not," she concedes, though it's not true – she wipes away some of his tears which have fallen with her thumb, and keeps one hand placed under his chin, the other arm still around his neck.

"I'm not," he repeats, and Bella can't help it – she leans forward and plants a kiss on his nose.

"You're not," she agrees, patronisingly, and she lets him bury his face into the crook of her neck.

She can't help but wonder if she prefers a Sirius who's hurting on the inside or a Sirius who's bitter and angry at rest of the world, because seeing him either way makes her want to destroy everything in her path.

This is love, she thinks.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Jeoffrey says he wants to go outside," says five year-old Anna to her mother, fixing the older witch with a piercing stare.

"He'll have to wait till tomorrow and go out with you then," says Gina, trying not to lose her temper with her daughter. The village healer had told her that it was typical of young children to have imaginary friends.

At least, this wasn't the first time Anna was talking about Jeoffrey, Gina thinks, with some relief.

"No! He wants to go now. Now!" Anna yells, and the glassware in the kitchen starts shaking. She stamps her foot, and the cupboard doors start rattling.

"That's enough! Go up to bed this instant!" she snaps, finally losing it. She's tired of her daughter trying to use magic to intimidate her.

"You'll regret this," says her daughter, but it's not Anna's voice she hears. It's a deep, grating voice, and it makes Gina's blood run still.

The mug of hot chocolate she's been holding falls from her hands, but she makes no move to clean up the mess.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

 **§**

* * *

 **End notes:**

(1) Does anyone else remember Elaine Denham from Doc Martin? She was his obnoxious receptionist in the first season. Meghan Kendricks is very loosely based on her.

(2) _A Fine Romance_ is a romantic comedy that aired on ITV in the 1980's which starred Judi Dench. Dame Judi Dench also acted as M in a set of James Bond movies. (Btw, fact-checking required on the ITV part.)

* * *

 **Review responses:**

Guest: I didn't write in the bike scene, as you can see, because I felt some things are better when left to imagination. I'm so glad all Bella/Sirius fights have been resolved as of now. They're a tad hard to write. I hope you didn't mind the wait. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. :)

Isabella: Harri posted quite a few new pictures, did you see? *grins broadly* Yes, I mean, he _has_ to forgive her, right? Only then can they really fall in love. ;) Sometimes, I feel the part that comes before the 'love' is the best part about a love story, though. So maybe I'll just stretch it a little more? Thank you for reading and reviewing! xx

Rachel: Oh God, no. I think it's weird to be in love with the mother and then fall for the daughter. It probably exists out there and I'm not criticising people who've fallen in love that way – love comes in multiple forms – but I know I'll never write a story like that, because it isn't my cup of tea. :3 Thanks for reviewing! :D

heyhey: Thanks! :)

* * *

 **AN:**

Writing this chapter was very hard, primarily because most of it was re-written. I lost a lot of work during a system update (which killed me, btw) and I have this lingering feeling that the original was much better. Most of this was written from what I remembered, and at the end of this, all I can say is, it looks nothing like the lost version.

I hope you enjoyed it. I don't want to commit to a date because well, fate is a bitch. But you can expect a new chapter towards the end of November or the first week of December.

Thank you for reading. Do leave a review, each one lights up my day.


	14. Chapter 14

§

* * *

THREADS OF TIME

* * *

 _Chapter 14_

* * *

 **"Love your family. Spend time, be kind & serve one another. Make no room for regrets. Tomorrow is not promised & today is short."**

~ Anonymous ~

* * *

The one thing that Sirius hates about his job is the paperwork – well, technically parchment-work, but nevertheless, he despises it. It doesn't help to have a mentor who despises it as well – Moody's very vocal about what a waste of time the paperwork is.

Sighing, he takes a look at his wrist watch – it's half past eight already. Knowing that he won't be able to get any more work done today, he packs up and heads out of his cubicle, all the time whistling some stupid tune that Isobel's managed to embed into his head.

As he walks past a neighbouring office cubicle, a flash of pink hair makes him stop, and he stops to call out to Linda.

"Hey Linds, want to get a drink?" he asks. They've had drinks together before, and more often than not, it's led to other 'distracting' activities. And Sirius is never one to give up on a good time. Of course, he hasn't gone out for a drink with her in months, so maybe it's time he fell back on an old habit.

"Aren't you dating someone?" she asks, not politely, and he stares at her.

 _"What?"_

"Uh, you told me you found a witch you wanted to _settle_ _with_ a couple of months back. What happened? Did she get tired of your inability to commit?" she asks nastily, and suddenly everything falls into place – her newly developed attitude with him, the barbed comments that her friend's been dropping every time he's bumped into the two of them – it all makes sense.

Isobel had impersonated him a couple of months back – he should have known that she would spin some tall tale like this. But _finally,_ he understands why Linda had been distant ever since the Yule break.

"I just thought we could have drinks as friends," he says, backtracking, before shaking his shoulders and leaving the Auror offices.

He'll have to talk to Isobel and set up some basic boundaries, he decides.

Once out of the Ministry, he Apparates to an alley two streets away from Remus' pub, so that he can do his duty as a best friend and annoy the other man for some time – Remus will give him the best advice about how he can tackle the Isobel-cock-block problem.

.

.

"You know, Bella was here earlier," he says, as Sirius peers at the bottom of his almost empty tumbler of Scotch.

"Why?"

"Something about a celebratory drink for clearing all her OWLs. She had me open up one of the house's best champagnes, and had it served to everyone," he says, a fond smile playing on his face.

"Did she save me any?" Sirius asks, as a joke.

"Are you sure champagne is what you really want from her?" he asks, a sly smile playing on his face, as he cleans a glass.

Exasperated, he knocks his drink back in one go, before tossing some notes on the counter and proceeding to leave.

"You know, I think she's saving _herself_ for you," the idiot calls out, a smarmy grin on his face.

Sirius elegantly gives him the two-fingered salute, shoving against the door in his hurry to get out. He thinks he can hear Remus still laughing inside.

Nevertheless, he stops on his way at a brewery in Diagon, and buys a lovely bottle of red, just in case.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

She's missing when he gets _home_.

It's not really home to him, but nothing's ever really been home, not like Hogwarts. Leicester Street had been home, of sorts, as had the Potter Manor, where Fleamont and Euphemia had welcomed him so lovingly.

He nods his head as Twigsy tells him how Isobel had insisted on celebrating by playing some new Muggle musical instrument she'd bought horribly off-key, and how she'd fed chocolates to Harry. He tries not to smile as the elf complains about how Harry had had a sugar-high, till he promptly fell asleep some one hour back.

He climbs up the stairs and places the bottle of wine on one of the tables in the landing, and quietly goes inside Harry's room to see his godson.

Satisfied that the mini-Marauder is indeed asleep, he prises Harry's jaws open and casts a nonverbal _Scourgify_ , just to ensure the boy doesn't end up with cavities – his teeth are only just developing, and as easy as it is to re-grow teeth using a variation of Skele-Gro, he doesn't want Harry to go through the same pain that Auriga had had to go through.

"Is that for us?" asks Isobel, coming up the stairs, her eyes riveted to the bottle he'd placed outside, just as he exits the room. He thinks there's an abeyant alcoholic waiting to burst out of the slender girl standing in front of him.

"You bought an electric guitar?" he asks softly, stepping out of Harry's room completely and closing the door half way, surprise clear in his voice.

She grins at him and tosses her hair back, and then pulls the strap off her shoulder, holding the guitar out to him.

"It's not really an electric guitar – it only looks and sounds like one. But it actually runs on runes!" she exclaims, the excitement quite clear from the way she's talking, even if she's making an active attempt to stay quiet and not make too much noise.

"Hmm," he hums in response, running his fingers along the strings, watching as different runes light up as he toys around with the 'settings'.

She continues looking at the guitar, and then traces one of the lighted runes, and there's something about her childlike curiosity and inquisitiveness that endears her to him, even more than usual.

"Do you want me to teach you the little I know?" he asks without thinking, and those green eyes look up at him, with wonder and amazement, and Sirius thinks his world stops, just for a moment.

And then Isobel's hugging him tightly, chanting yesyesyes quietly, her bony arms curled around his neck. He holds the guitar between them awkwardly with one hand, but hugs her with his free right arm, and he breathes in her scent of green apples.

He doesn't tell her that he only knows a few chords – that he might be a maestro when it comes to the piano, but has very rudimentary guitar skills picked up from the various pubs he used to visit what feels likes a lifetime ago.

"When can we start?" she asks, stepping away, her eyes shining brightly in the dim light.

"Right away, love," he says, and he pretends not to notice how prettily she flushes at his words.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

They end up falling asleep in that observatory her godmother has up in the attic – Sirius thinks it makes sense that Helen Flamel is Isobel Potter's godmother – they're both a little eccentric.

At first, he's teaching her chord G, and then they're looking at the stars and she's trying to remember all that he'd taught her in December. Eventually, the conversation shifts, and in a broken flow, Isobel starts talking about her best friends, a Muggleborn witch named Hermione Granger, and a Pureblooded wizard named Ronald Weasley.

Save for the time when she told him about what Peter had done in her thread during the TriWizard Tournament, this is the first time she's opening up about herself, and the hole that's been in his chest for the past few months pains lesser as he listens to her.

The concept of parallel universes and multiple "threads", as she calls it, is fantastical to him. There've always been theories regarding the Laws, but he'd never really paid attention to the abstract. And when she mentions how this Hermione chit was like a sister to her, he can't but think of his own sister – the idiot whose death he never really got over.

He smiles internally as he remembers how Auriga was much more knowledgeable at the abstract theories of magic, and listens as Isobel talks about Ginny Weasley.

He doesn't comment on any of her descriptions of her friends – they're all familiar names, the surnames at least. The Weasleys are a good lot, and he knows this from his association with the Prewetts. He wonders if the Weasleys from the world he lives in would have taken in Harry the way they'd taken in Isobel in hers.

It's obvious that she's almost asleep, because she speaks slowly, her voice muffled against his shoulder, "I miss them. I miss them so much. And I don't think anyone understands how much."

Sirius remains silent for a few beats, the sound of her shallow breathing filling the air.

"You forget, love, I lost my family too."

His whisper is just that, a whisper, and it's heard by no other living soul, seeing as the woman who it's meant for is deep in the land of Morpheus.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

The snow is melting away, and spring's imminent arrival is obvious, as Isobel grabs at his arm and continues pulling him through the woods.

"I'm telling you, there's something not normal about this place. Whatever happened the other day, it _has_ to be because of _something_. It's not really like me to lose my head," she says, pushing aside some brambles.

Sirius doesn't comment on what she's just said; he thinks his thoughts will be met with a scowl.

"And you're sure you can find this place again?" he asks, because it feels like they've crossed that same withered stump of a tree twice already.

"Of course I can. I have an excellent sense of direction."

Sirius keeps mum, and follows the raven-haired female, not letting his eyes trail down her backside– Twigsy's food has made her gain curves that make her look more human than skeleton, and he's not quite sure if it's a good thing that he likes how she looks.

Irritated with himself, he wishes he could be back in the shed, cleaning his motorcycle. At least his thoughts wouldn't stray if he were only distracted by the gleam of his beloved Harley Davidson.

"This is it," she says tonelessly, stopping short at the edge of the trees, and he narrowly avoids bumping into her as he stares at the house.

It feels eerie, and there's this sense of foreboding that Sirius doesn't particularly like. He wants to go back to Helen's mansion – there's something wrong about this place, something he just can't say for sure.

"You don't have anything magical on you, right?" she asks, and he nods his head curtly, noting how she's slipping a compass into her pocket – so _that's_ where her 'sense of direction' comes from, he thinks snidely.

"Only my wand, as you specified," he says, though he agrees with her precautions. There's something about this place which feels upsetting. He now understands why she didn't carry her wand the other day, though it had proved foolish in the end. His core feels jolted, like his very essence is being warded away.

Wait, _warded_ away?

"The last thing I remember is trying to cross that stream over there," she points. It still looks frozen, though given that spring is almost setting in, it's bound to be ready to crack.

He sees that she's gripping her wand tightly, her knuckles turning white, as the cogs in his brain turn. What if this entire clearing has a compelling ward or simply a ward laced with layers of compulsion charms, one that makes people want to turn away? The repelling power could turn more powerful the closer one is to the building, he thinks.

He steps past her, and edges out from the line of trees, his eyes fixed on the building in front, thinking of how once upon a time, what feels like several lifetimes ago, he and Auriga chased each other around a similar structure – their old Aunt Cassiopeia's house.

He swallows painfully, thinking of his dead sister, who'd never gotten the funeral she deserved. How would she pass onto her next life, to properly face the Judgement of Death with Morgana by her side, if she weren't sent the way one was meant to be?

That bastard Voldemort had stolen so much from him. Auriga wouldn't be dead if she hadn't foolishly joined that damned cult. James and Lily would be all right if not for that serpentine demagogue. Harry wouldn't be an orphan today.

He wants to sink to the ground, and just stop feeling.

"Sirius, are you all right?" asks Isobel, covering his clenched fist with her cold hand.

He breathes in deeply, and nods. His thoughts – he's probably being manipulated to think of things that would make him weak.

"I'm going to try something, okay? If something happens, drag me back deep into the woods, and then fetch help."

She gulps and then nods, her eyes worried, but her features set.

–

 _Sirius has retreated inside himself; he's walking the landscape of his mind.. He pauses to take in the familiar surroundings, before finding the rock where he always sits._

 _He sits on the hard surface, warmed by the sun, and gazes absently into the distance, at the grove of orange trees that are further away. He's never ventured there – he's never had reason to._

 _A red bird hops onto the tufts of grass next to him, and he remembers Master Septimus' words – the depths of one's mind are better left unexplored, the man had said._

 _Once the urge to explore the groves is gone, the bird flies away, and Sirius remembers why he's here._

 _He closes his eyes and focuses on the centre of his forehead, the spot which he uses as the focal point to start observing the outer word, the actual real word–not the one which represents his mind, but the one where he's standing, with Isobel holding his hand– so that he can start making out the type of wards that surround his physical body._

 _As the picture of a seemingly abandoned building appears, with crisscrossing golden lines forming a large dome, with smaller intricate weaving within, leaving no room within a mile's radius, signifying the heavy warding, Sirius smiles grimly._

 _Figuring out each and every ward in front of him is going to be such great fun._

–

They're back in the house, sitting by the roaring fire in the library, with Isobel sitting across him at the table, looking every bit a regal queen.

"What?" he asks.

Helen has an extensive book collection, and he's found a lot about the some of the wards he'd sensed earlier that he couldn't quite identify properly, but there are so many questions he has. He decides that he might as well visit the BAA's* library tomorrow, and find out more about holy wards. Having never prayed to any "godly" entity the way Muggles do, he finds it necessary to study them.

Septimus Heap had never taught him about these kinds of wards, apart from just basic theory, basic but essential knowledge. And Sirius hadn't taken a keen interest in them, because it could only be cast by members of the Light.

"I'm just thinking," he replies to her, evasively, and she frowns.

" _Fine,_ " she says in an unpleasant tone, and gets up, pushing her chair back loudly. "I'm taking Harry out to London."

"I'm coming," he says, trying not to roll his eyes at the incensed woman.

"No one invited you."

" _I'm_ his guardian. Not you."

"I remember. That's why I _informed_ you where I'm taking him. Doesn't mean I want you accompanying us."

"I anyway have to meet someone in London – my colleague Belinda, you might know her? She has pink hair? There's some sort of misconception she has, that I won't go out with her anymore. I might as well clear the air, let her know that I'm single."

For a moment, Isobel's green eyes flash with guilt, before she scowls again, only this time fiercer.

She storms out of the library, past a Rafal who stands there stupefied at she brushes by brusquely, just as he enters the library with a large pile of books.

"Is everything all right, Mr Black?" he asks, still startled.

The grin on Sirius' face still hasn't quiet disappeared.

"It's a good day to be alive."

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

"Two adults, please."

"You have to pay for the kid as well," tells the old ma n at the ticket counter, and Isobel looks like she's about to argue. But there isn't anything to argue about.

Sirius is holding Harry, who's watching the people behind them with avid interest – they're tourists, and someone clucks with their tongue, which makes Harry smile toothily.

"He's not even two! He's not a child, he's an infant! The board clearly says children and adults. There's no mention of infants!" she argues shrilly. Harry snaps his head to look at her.

As the old man and Isobel descend into a heated argument, with the man saying there are policies to stick to, Harry starts wriggling in his arms, and people in the queue start getting restless. So he pulls out Muggle money out of his leather Muggle wallet – a gift from Lily – and gives the correct change to the man, all singlehandedly. It's a feat that he hasn't dropped Harry in the process.

He ignores Isobel's complaints and pulls her away once he's got the tickets, to get away from the whisperings of the annoyed Muggle tourists, but not before saying a quick sorry to the ticket seller.

He doesn't let go even after they've entered the doorway, and once near they're in the middle of the first circular room, he stops at the centre.

"What's wrong with you? I had the situation under control, all right? They were fleecing us!"

"You were creating a scene," he tells her, and then immediately regrets his tone – he'd sounded like his mother.

"It was none of your business!"

"The people behind us were getting annoyed."

"Since when do you care about what others have to say?" she asks, before striding off towards one of the wax statues, whipping out her camera from the hand bag she's brought along.

Sirius follows her almost docilely, holding a Harry who now wants to be left down on the shiny floor. There are people in the room, milling around, pausing at each statue, posing and taking pictures, but never staying with any statue for too long – it seems common courtesy to keep moving along.

He's not sure why she'd been so insistent that they come here – she'd said it was a childhood dream to visit this place, but that didn't mean this place was actually interesting. In fact, he found the statues, especially their glazed eyes, creepy.

She poses with various figures and makes him take pictures, and each time, he either lets Harry have a few brief moments of freedom, or Isobel makes Harry pose along with her and the statue.

"Look, there's Judi Dench! I simply must take a picture with her!"

Sirius is once again the dutiful photographer.

Her good humour is restored eventually, and she laughs easily, away from one of the statues, when she's just playing with Harry. Sirius takes a picture of that – it's a moment worth capturing.

By now, they've moved from that room, down a small slope which Harry had insisted on running down, and each time they come across a celebrity Isobel knows, she tells him some story about the person.

It makes him realise that the girl's watched one too many Muggle movies..

"Merlin,. I need to get a 007 pic in!"

Sirius is about to take the picture, when he hears someone talking behind him, and he catches snippets. Maybe his ears are sharp because his Animagus is a dog, but that's not what he dwells on.

He pretends to fiddle with the camera, holding up his hand to tell her to wait for a few moments, as he listens.

"That woman who delayed us –"

"– Left her son irresponsibly, look –"

"– posing like Bond, seriously?"

The two women who're talking become clearer as they step closer.

"She probably got knocked up in school and has to fight for the ticket money, the slut," one of them says, and Sirius feels anger burst through him.

Pettiness is not a sign of promiscuity, and Sirius finds their tone and disgust appalling, because they're talking trash about his Isobel. Sure, her behaviour at the counter warranted a few grumbles, but it didn't make her an irresponsible person just because she wanted to take pictures, and it sure as hell didn't make her a slut.

He clicks the picture, and calls out, "Sorry, love, the lighting was odd, and I had to wait for that man there to move."

She smiles at him beatifically and swoops towards a Harry who giggles when she picks him up and twirls him. The moment's over soon, and Sirius is annoyed that he didn't get it when he could, distracted by those two women. He memorises their faces intently.

He learns about the British royal family from her. And Audrey Hepburn. And Pele. And Winston Churchill. She just doesn't stop chattering, and Harry loves it.

Sirius loves it too, but he isn't able to enjoy it the way he might usually do.

And it doesn't help that the only Muggle he's recognised is that odd looking man Hitler, who'd supposedly been in cahoots with Grindelwald. Lily had often said that Voldemort's brand of racism was similar to Hitler's.

He imagines Lily and James being here, taking Harry out to this place. He supposes Lily'd be telling James about the different statues as well, except that she'd probably have recognised historical figures more than actors and actresses. He smiles wistfully – he can imagine them right here, right next to him.

He'd been hoping to find the Beatles, but he hadn't found them there, much to his disappointment. There'd been a Chamber Of Torture, which he'd wanted to go through, but had decided not to at the last minute, because Isobel had said that Harry might have nightmares.

"You know what? We've taken twenty-eight pictures," she says, examining some knob on the camera. "There are only four pictures left on the roll, and you're not even there in one. Smile!"

The camera flashes before he can do anything, apart from hold Harry.

For the last picture, she makes some stranger take a picture of all three of them – it's the old woman who'd clucked at Harry playfully – and Sirius uses it as a chance to pull Isobel flush against him, with Harry nestled between them. He can smell her shampoo and Harry's baby powder, and it feels like home.

When the camera has flashed, he leans and kisses her on the cheek, which makes Isobel turn bright red, before she smiles at him, her eyes glittering.

The woman walks up to them, and smiles, before handing the camera to them.

"Your son?" she asks, and before Sirius can correct the misconception, Isobel says a bright yes, which prompts the woman to pinch Harry's cheek.

Harry doesn't like that, and turns his face away, rubbing it on Bella's shoulder.

"A pretty little bairn," she says, her Scottish brogue stronger now. "Has your eyes, lass."

"And his father's tendency to be a prankster," Isobel replies, tilting her head to Sirius, causing the woman to chuckle.

Sirius watches silently, as the two women strike up a conversation. He supposes that Isobel's ability to chatter makes her a sociable person.

The stranger tells them why she's here. Apparently, her granddaughter has got a job, working at the souvenir shop, and she'd invited her grandmother to come see her at work.

They proceed to the souvenir shop together, all four of them, with Harry warming up to the woman slowly.

"That's her, there," she says, pointing to a mousy looking girl with a pleasant smile, billing something for a customer. The girl catches the eye of her grandmother, smiles broadly, before pretending like she doesn't know who it is.

The woman chuckles at that, and Harry mimics her, which causes her to touch Harry's face again.

The moment's perfect; it's just what he's been waiting for.

Sirius inconspicuously points his wand at the two bitches from earlier who are now in the souvenir shop as well, and causes the row of snow globes next to them to fall. He'd been keeping an eye on the two ever since that Sean Connery statue, and Sirius honestly believes his brand of revenge couldn't have been more perfect that this.

As managers rush to them to chastise (and make them pay a lot of money, Sirius hopes), he smiles grimly, with the old woman shaking her head about clumsy people.

"It'll cost them around £200, each globe's around twenty," says some teenage boy standing near a large set of fridge magnets to an identical looking boy standing right next to him.

"Thank Christ it's not us," agrees his twin.

There's something to be said about revenge, Sirius decides. He might have made a decent Slytherin, after all.

They part ways with the Scottish woman at the billing counter, where she lingers to talk to her granddaughter, while Sirius physically restrains Harry from throwing some city guide pamphlets around.

Bella buys a red coloured photo frame, with a golden Big Ben painted on it, and holds it up to show it to him.

"Red and gold," she says, taking his free hand and squeezing it. "They're our colours."

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Harrry's already nestled into his shoulder when Isobel Apparates all of them home. They'd had fish and chips by the Thames for dinner – Harry has a new favourite now: deep fried potatoes.

By the time they've climbed the stairs, Harry's fast asleep.

"He's drooling on your jacket."

Sirius gives her a sidelong glance and smiles lopsidedly – that makes her blush fiercely. He loves it whenever he's the reason behind her blushes – it's entertaining, and more importantly, it appeals to some primal part of his brain that likes knowing that he's the one who ruffles her up. That pink flush dusting her cheeks makes him want her in ways he'd never thought one could want another person – it's not like he's not new to lust, but it's different with the witch who's standing next to him.

"Time to tuck him in, then."

She sets her bag on the table outside and simultaneously opens the door to Harry's room. The lights come on immediately, and Harry, disturbed, rubs his face against Sirius' shoulder.

"Shh, baby," she hums, setting up her blue-flames-in-a-jar night lamp, dimming the room's lights, as Sirius walks over to the crib and gently sets down the sleeping toddler.

And then she's by his side, nudging him slightly away, so that she can bend and place a kiss on Harry's forehead, and he lets her do that, an amused smile on his face.

"Shouldn't we change his clothes?"

"Nah, we'll deal with that tomorrow. His diaper should last another twelve hours – I changed it in the restaurant," she says, absolute adoration written on her face as she looks at Harry.

Sirius thinks it's a good thing that there's someone who looks like that at Harry. It makes him wonder if his own mother ever looked at him or Auriga that way. Chances are, that egomaniac was too busy looking at her own reflection in the mirror.

Soon, they're outside the room, shutting the door halfway, as usual. Isobel's shifts her weight from leg to leg, and she looks like she has something to say. So Sirius, instead of making a hasty exit to his room, stands there and looks at her expectantly.

"I want to say thank you, for coming out to Madame Tussaud's today. And for putting up with my general PMSing. And for having my back, in general. And for indulging all my photo whims. And–"

He can't help it, he cuts across, a genuine smile on his face, "You're welcome, Isobel. I had a lovely time too. You don't have to thank me–"

"No, there's more," she says loudly, wringing her hands. She's obviously uncomfortable, and she's never been that way with him. "That Auror, the one with pink hair... I don't know why I told her what I did– actually, no, I know why I told that. I didn't like the idea of you and her together. But that wasn't right on my part. I had no right to do that. If you want to date her, you should. You don't need my permission or anything, I'm just an idiot–"

"Bella?" he interrupts her rambling.

"Yeah?" she pauses for a breath.

"Backtrack. Why don't you like the idea of me and Linda together?" he asks, feeling very Slytherin at the moment. He has a feeling he knows what she's going to say, but he isn't sure whether he wants to hear it. What would James say? This is James' daughter. On paper. But she never calls James her dad; James can't hold Sirius responsible for his less than platonic feelings towards Isobel.

Isobel opens her mouth and closes it twice, before meeting his eyes dead on with her green ones. And then she proves why she's a Gryffindor.

"I like you, Sirius. I _really_ like you. I've liked you as more than friends for quite some time now. I don't know if you feel that way towards me, but if what you feel towards this Linda is an iota of what I feel for you, then you should go out with her."

Sirius lets out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and pauses for a moment to take her in –her eyes are blazing, and she's earnest, and she's beautiful and all Sirius wants to do is kiss her.

But this is Lily and James' daughter, and he owes them his sanity.

He'll do it right.

For them.

And for Isobel.

Because she deserves it.

"I suppose the natural progression here would be for us to go on a date. So Isobel Potter, will you go out with me?"

She stares at him, as though she can't quite comprehend what he's asked.

"Wait, you like me back?"

"I just asked you out. What does that imply?"

"Uhh."

"Will you go out on a date with me or not, Isobel?" he asks, feeling like the prat he was to girls back in Hogwarts.

"Yes," she says softly, before nimbly leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. And then she disappears into her room, before he can say Ambrosius Merlin.

He rubs the place on his cheek where she'd kissed him, as he enters his room, his skin till tingling, and smiles broadly.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

The next morning has him signing into the massive library of the Board Of Affinity And Arts. He'd found Helen's collection to be conspicuously lacking about religious wards, and Rafal had surprisingly been unhelpful – Sirius can't help but feel something's not quite right here; something's fishy.

There are passages of text that stand out, that he's marked and kept aside. Harry's probably the only person Sirius will ever make notes for and be a proper little nerd, because if there's something sinister in Flamel's house, then it's his job, as godfather, to protect Harry.

It doesn't help that he already feels he's failed his godson – had it not been for his insistence that Pettigrew be the Secret Keeper, Harry wouldn't be an orphan today.

Sirius reads over the passage he's made a copy of. It's a very brief paragraph, but it's a perfect summary of all the information he's found so far, which isn't much.

 _'Religious wards have existed as long as the concept of religion has existed. These wards act both ways, both to keep undesirable beings objects out, or in. While of little interest to warders for whom the practicality of this branch of warding is now lost, religious wards are of great significance to exorcists and other occultists. Due to a lack of professionally religious warders, many exorcists have taken to seeking the help of local priests and rabbis to build and maintain the integrity of the wards._

 _Religious wards play on the fears and beliefs of the entity wishing to pass through, and are thus selectively permeable. The casting of such wards requires a deeper understanding of the meaning of life and the metaphysical implications of one's existence in the larger scheme of things.'_

Sirius can't help but wonder if Master Septimus didn't teach him about religious wards on purpose – could it be that he, Sirius, wasn't enlightened enough to understand the meaning of life? Sirius wants to be annoyed with the older man, but he finds that he doesn't have the heart to be so – Septimus Heap had been a brilliant teacher.

After spending a few more fruitless hours in the library, where he learns nothing new from the material at hand, Sirius decides to head back home. If he wants to access the deeper levels of the library, he'll need permission from one of the relevant Guardians, and Sirius has no doubt they'll try to wrangle a marriage deal out of his need for information.

Once he's out of the official BAA HQ, he calls for one of his least favourite persons in the world.

"Kreacher!"

"What does my Blood Traitor Master want today?" asks the house-elf snidely, and Sirius wants to kick the elf where it hurts the most.

"I want you to catalogue all the books about religious wards in all the Black libraries I am entitled to have access, and report your findings by the coming Friday," he says, taking great care to be explicitly clear with his instructions; Kreacher is the ultimate Slytherin, always looking for loopholes.

"As Master wishes," says the house-elf, bowing low, and Sirius wonders how Auriga had ever found such a loathsome creature adorable.

"Is that all?"

"For now, yes. You may leave. And do not involve my mother in any of these tasks."

"Of course, _sir_. I find it my duty to inform you that my dearest Lady Black frets everyday if you will be conceiving a child out of wedlock with the Half Blood witch that you share your quarters with, my poor Mistress."

Before Sirius can react, like asking the elf to fuck off, Kreacher is gone with a loud crack, and he's just left there, staring at a tuft of grass.

* * *

 **OoOoO**

* * *

Gina's never been afraid before.

Even when her worthless husband had left her after knocking up the witch down the street, she hadn't been afraid of life; she'd known she would plod on.

But she's afraid now, afraid of this Jeoffrey that Anna keeps talking of. This Jeoffrey that Anna becomes every now and then.

The healer thinks she should call in a soothsayer, see what there is to say about this situation. Children on the street are already staying away from her Anna, people are whispering when she goes to the market. It's only a matter of time before Aurors fly in to investigate.

And then what?

Will her daughter be taken away to a psychiatric ward? Or if it's something darker, something she doesn't want to think about, will they cast her in Nurmengard?

Gina knows she isn't the most affectionate of mothers, but that doesn't mean she wants to see her only child be taken away from her. Whatever is wrong, it can be set right, won't it?

There are four sharp raps on the door, and Gina hurries to the window to see who it is – an old crone of a woman stands there, bent over, her wrinkled hand clutching her staff tightly.

Relieved for no apparent reason, Gina opens the door – this woman is the only one apart from the healer to step onto this side of the street in the past month.

"Did Arzt Bergmann send you here?"

The woman nods her head slowly, and Gina steps aside for her to come in.

She slowly climbs the two broad stairs that lie outside the door, and Gina watches, as the old woman pauses on the threshold, neither in nor out.

The woman looks Gina dead in the eyes, and hisses quietly, " _Da ist etwas, there is something, the Condemned live here."_

* * *

 **OoOoO**

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§

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End Notes:

 _1\. BAA: The Board Of Affinity And Arts. It's mentioned in the 12th chapter, where Helen explains why Bella needs to write her OWLs._

 _2\. The wax museum described is Madame Tussaud's. I don't know if the layout of the building forty years back is similar to the current layout._

 _3\. Guardians of Arts – mentioned in the passing in chapter 3._

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Guest review replies:  


Isabella: Thanks a lot for feeding my Harri Musumeci addiction. ;) And thanks for reading and reviewing. :D When you put it that way, my heart breaks for Sirius. :/

Guest: Thanks for sticking up for me. :)

Guest: Yay! Another Doc Martin fan! :D

Guest: Thanks! Kreacher _really_ is the best! xD

Guest: You're the first person to pick on the Sound of Music reference! :D

Guest, Guest and mmm, thanks for reading and reviewing. :)

* * *

 **1k+ follows and 1k+ favourites – I'm humbled. Thanks for the support, you guys are the best. :)**

 **I'm changing my name to** _broken barriers_ **, just letting y'all know. And I've started a new femHarry/Sirius fic, which I'd love to receive feedback on, if you feel so inclined.**

 **Did you notice that Sirius slipped and called her Bella? And they're going on a date! Did you like the Sirius POV?**

 **Thanks for reading, reviews are love. :)**


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